


Rebuilt From Ashes

by annathescavver



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Slight Canon Divergence, friends helping friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 102,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annathescavver/pseuds/annathescavver
Summary: Rebecca hadn't expected the world to end, even with the all the rumors, but ended it had. As a survivor of the atomic fire, she finds herself on a desperate search for what's left of her family. She is lost in a foreign world that looks so much like the one she used to know. Her search takes her deep into the ruined, rebuilding world and she soon realizes that there is more going on than one missing child.AKA my take on the game's main storyline, with some twists and changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing this kind of stuff, not to mention posting it for others to read. Let me know if you see any mistakes! Thanks for stopping by and feel free to leave a comment below!

_I hope this still works._

Rebecca stood before the metal gate. She shook with cold, and could feel the prickle of ice in her hair. All around her the air was still, as if the world was holding its breath. A harsh light came from behind her. It shone down, merciless, and illuminated the chipped blue and yellow paint of the gate. These same colors adorned the jumpsuit she wore.

The jumpsuit was a uniform, one that she had been given upon arriving to this place. It felt like a lifetime ago, the day she had walked past this very gate and looked up at the unforgiving light in confusion. This place had claimed to be shelter; safe from the bombs that had fallen to suddenly from the sky. Shelter from the war.

She grimaced as the memories came back, grip tightening on the pistol in her hand.

A quiet morning, broken by the wail of sirens. A news reporter was saying something about bombs falling on other cities, his words mumbled between sobs. The neighbors started screaming as soldiers hurried down the street. It had all been so surreal. Even with all the rumors, all the preparation and paranoia, who knew it would actually happen?

Rebecca had only just signed the paperwork, thinking as she did that they wouldn’t really need the protection it offered. They would never need to claim that spot in Vault 111. The war would end in time, and everything would be okay. She had agreed to sign it only as a precaution. She had given in and she didn’t know if it was because of the salesman’s insistence, or something else entirely.

She shivered again and her thoughts fell on the vault itself. Everyone had been herded down here and assured of their “New Life, Underground” as if their shocked and horrified minds could understand what that meant. Then they had been frozen.

Dragging herself to the present, she switched on the safety to the pistol and tucked it into her belt. After the creatures she had fought in the vault, she feared what would be lurking on the surface and hoped it would be enough. If, she reminded herself, there was a surface world to return to.

Rebecca swung open the gate. The metal screech pierced the quiet and she winced, ears ringing. She stepped onto the platform behind it, peering into the shadows the yawned above. Up there lay a chance at survival. Up there, if she was lucky, mankind still remained.

Securing the gate once more, she gave a last glance at herself. Brightly colored vault suit, pistol with dwindling ammunition, and an ancient monitor called a Pip-Boy on her left arm.

Who knew, indeed.

The platform gave a great lurch. Rebecca stumbled backward away from the controls as it rose, a mixture of relief and apprehension twisting her stomach. She was grateful that it even worked, for it had obviously gone many years without maintenance. It seemed that she would not be trapped.

She fought her panic as the lift rose. There was no telling what the surface would offer her. She pictured a dead wasteland, with no water or food and only radiation for company. Or perhaps there would be life, but it would come in the form of mutated, hungry creatures that she stood no chance against. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

But nothing could survive a nuclear war, right? That was what all the experts said. Everyone had been told that only those in the vaults would survive. Everyone else, all life even, would perish. That was why Vault-Tec created their damned tombs. Tombs - that was what they were. At least, Rebecca thought, that was what hers had turned into.

Bright golden light suddenly erupted above her head. She flinched, and then her eyes widened as what could only be sunlight filled her vision. It was a gentle touch. Reassuring, familiar. She fell to her knees as the lift reached the top and locked into place. The sun warmed the ice in her blood and tears skated freely down her face.

The world spread out before her in all directions. It was destroyed. Trees were dead, twisted and uprooted. The sky was pale and only a few clouds floated above. The ground was cracked and broken. But she could still see green: in the patches of grass, the weeds clinging stubbornly to the nearest rock, and was that a flower?

Rebecca stood slowly, limbs heavy and weak. She eyed the platform and the fence that surrounded it. Last she knew, people had been fighting to get underground. There had been scream, arguing. Pushing and shoving. Vault-Tec had secured the location with armed guards, permitting only those who had signed up to enter. In those harrowing seconds, she had been so thankful she had signed up her family.

Her family. She choked on tears as she thought of them. Warren, her husband and best friend of many years. He had stood beside her through all of life’s ups and downs, and she had done the same for him. Someone had murdered him in cold blood; shot him and left him for dead. And Shaun, her infant son. Her innocent baby boy. That same monster had kidnapped him, ripping him away and disappearing from sight. Anger warred with her grief as she stood there, taking in the remains of the world.

People had done this. People had taken her son. People had ruined the world in their greed, their hatred, their inability to see beyond their own noses. They had destroyed the world and left it scarred. They had taken her son away from her.

“This can’t be happening,” she said and her voice broke. It was nightmarish, this horrid reality she was faced with. Only, this nightmare was one she could never wake from. What was she going to do? Where could she go?

Was anyone even alive?

Slowly, she picked her way down the dirt path. She knew, despite her shock, that she had to keep moving. Standing atop the vault would solve nothing. It would not find her food, water, or shelter. So Rebecca had, after a while, wiped away her tears and found the path down from the platform.

Stones littered the pathway, making it difficult to walk down. Fatigue gnawed at her, fangs sinking deeper with every step. But she refused to stop, not when she was so exposed. And sanctuary was so close.

At the bottom of the rocky slope, Rebecca raised her eyes to see buildings. Sanctuary Hills. She swallowed her nerves and stepped forward, readying her pistol. The buildings that surrounded her, as she walked down the familiar street, were nothing more than rusted, hollow shells. The wind swept down the road and the nearest house groaned as if in response. Rebecca found herself agreeing.

Before she knew it, her feet had automatically taken her to her own front door. She inhaled deeply through her nose as she surveyed the damaged structure, wondering just how many years had passed.

A skittering sound caught her attention and she raised her pistol, leaning around the doorframe to see a giant roach lazily wandering what used to be her front room. Curling her lip in disgust, she aimed and pulled the trigger, only to see the shot go wide. The roach turned at the sound, flaring its wings in agitation. Rebecca fired a second time, both hands cradling the gun. The roach went down with a harsh cracking sound, legs twitching. She stood straighter.

After listening for more of the insects, she continued into the house. She was familiar with these creatures. Several had swarmed her inside the vault, skittering along the orange-lit hallways as she made her way to the exit. She was not sure what they were. A result of the radiation, probably.

The house was desolate. Her eyes burned with tears but she refused to let them fall. She had cried enough in the past hour.

The front room was arranged just as she remembered. The sofa, a faded, torn thing, rested in front of the television - the one on whose screen that news anchor had announced their fate. And beyond that, the kitchen. With its long countertop and appliances still there, she could almost believe nothing had happened.

If it wasn’t for the sunlight peeking in through the fractured roof.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned and walked down the narrow hallway. At the end were two bedrooms. To the left, lay the master suite where she and Warren had slept. As she stood in its doorway, shoulder pressed into the frame, she recalled lazy mornings spent curled in his arms. Neither had been particularly early risers, even after their son had been born. She could almost smell the clean sheets.

And to the right lay the nursery. Blue paint still adorned the crib where Shaun had slept. A few toys lay scattered around the small room: a letterblock here, a red delivery truck there.

Rebecca felt her some of her confusion melt away as she stood there in silence. Though it was hard to believe, and even harder to accept, the nuclear war had happened. Now there were only ghosts of that pre-war world, ones that cried at every corner of homes like this one.

The woman lifted her head and turned around again, intent on putting distance between herself and her former life. At this point it offered her nothing but pain. Maybe at a later date, when she had come to terms with everything, she would return. She left the house, continuing on down the street towards the edge of Sanctuary Hills.

The sun was beginning to set as she looked out over the remain of the wooden bridge. The fact that it remained shocked her, as she figured it would have rotted away. But here it was, crossing a tricking stream filled with debris.She moved across it slowly, listening as it creaked and groaned under her weight.

On the other side she came across the first body.

Rebecca stepped forward and, biting back her revulsion, crouched beside it. The individual was a middle-aged man, dressed in tattered leathers. He had not been dead long, she realized, and knew with faint hope in her heart that other people still lived. But the gruesome wounds along his arms and torso, ones caused by something feeding on his body, caused this hope to die quickly.

She reared back, pulling out the pistol again. Whatever was using this corpse as food was near. And whatever it was, she had no intention of meeting it.

There was a lengthening shadow under the rocky overhang to her right, and from within it she heard a scuffling sound. Swearing, she held the pistol out as three ragged dogs prowled towards her.

Fear skittered like a trapped insect in her stomach. These hounds were feral, their eyes locked on her and their steps sure. Several ribs could be seen through the bloody, matted fur of each.

She recalled her limited ammunition and despaired. How was she going to fight off three hungry dogs?

But this thought dissolved as the first lunged as her and she fired, the pistol recoiling in her hand as the bullet buried itself in the dog’s skull. It went down with a whine, spasming sickeningly on the cracked pavement. Rebecca had no time to rejoice as the other two advanced.

The second she caught in the side, bullet striking as the hound moved to her left. It growled at her, fangs dripping saliva, as it dragged itself to its feet again. She barely avoided its bite as she jumped backward, one foot slipping on the gravel.

Fire lanced up her left arm as the third dog pulled her off balance. Through the haze of pain, she lifted the pistol and used the grip of the gun to strike the animal between its ears. Bone cracked audibly and blood welled out from the resulting wound. Whining and snarling, dog twisted its body savagely and wrenched her arm around. She screamed in agony and struck a second time, swears bitten out between her teeth.

The second dog lunged again, having circled her momentarily, and she repeated the offense a third time. This time she caught its jaw and it recoiled from her in shock. As it backed away, growling faintly, she kicked off the other and resolutely put a bullet just behind its eye.

Ignoring the pain in her arm, she raised the pistol again and fired several times until the last dog fell limp to the road.

She stumbled and found herself against the rocky overhang, breathing heavily as she tried to compose herself. Dark hair, rebelliously freeing itself from the tail she had put it in, stirred with each exhale. Her eyes snagged on the blood seeping from the ragged tear in her vault suit. The arm ached; though she thought, by some miracle, it was not broken. Fingers twitching, she peeled back the blue fabric to see the damage the feral dog had caused. The bite was just above her elbow, fangs sinking deep. Nausea curled in her belly but she pushed it away.

“Stop the bleeding, stop the - oh god,” she said. She could not die now, having been on the surface less than a day. She had her son to find, her husband to avenge.

Hooking her gun on her belt once more, she used her teeth to tear of the remainder of the ruined fabric on her arm. Her fingers slipped in the blood as she pulled the makeshift tourniquet tight. Spitting at the horrid taste of pennies and whatever had been in that dog’s mouth last, she stood up and glanced back at the man in the road.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. Though it solved nothing, she nodded at the man’s body. She wanted to bury him, but was not strong enough. Maybe she’d come back, someday.

Walking became difficult. Her head spun from stress and blood loss. Rebecca glanced up at the horizon as the sun finally sank behind the distant hills, her mind numb. She had nowhere to stay the night. No shelter and only, as she checked for the second time since the dogs, 4 bullets.

Maybe she should have stayed behind in town. It would have been smarter, she thought to herself as she trudged onward. There would have been walls around her, and a roof over her head. A sofa to sleep on.

But the harshness of her memories colliding with her reality had seared her too much to stay.

“Not like this,” she said, cursing herself. “You will not die like this.”

There had been a gas station south of Sanctuary Hills, where she had often stopped to buy a cold Nuka-Cola as she watched trucks come through to fuel up. Perhaps it still stood.

On the crest of the next hill, she spotted the familiar red rocket poised as if ready to launch into space. Relief course through her veins as she took in the quiet station. It looked mostly intact, the paint chipping but the building otherwise secure. As she walked closer, cradling her injured arm close to her chest, she saw signs of life.

A light beckoned from the garage, shining out into the deeping twilight. A fence, neatly mended, surrounded a patch of what looked to be crops. There was a clothesline, where a few shirts and a sheet hung in the breeze.

Rebecca stood still for a few moments, wondering if the signs were those of safety or danger. He or she who lived here would not appreciate her presence. In this wasted world, she would be competition for the limited resources.

 Shaking her head, she approached anyway. In her state, and in this new world she knew little of, she would die anyway. She needed medical care and food.

 Once she got close enough, Rebecca called out. “H-hello?” She blinked in the light of the garage, spotting several shelves pushed against the brick walls, each covered in untidy collections of junk. “I need help. Please, I’m -”

Barking interrupted her and she flinched, casting about for the source of the sound. A large dog rounded the open door, ears flat to his head. He growled at her, hackles raised across his shoulders.

She noticed that his fur was groomed, soft and shining across strong muscles. This was no feral hound like those she had just passed. He was well taken care of, loved even.

“Hey there,” she tried, using this information to her advantage. “I’m no trouble, boy. I just need help.” She took care to keep her voice soothing, pitching it low as she watched him carefully for signs of attack. He looked to be a german shepard, or at least mostly one. She remembered them being used by law enforcement back before the war. They were good animals, fiercely loyal and highly intelligent.

The dog approached her slowly, sniffing the air. Rebecca tried to crouch, to get down to his level and appear non threatening, but as she did her body collapsed. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut at the fresh bout of pain in her arm. “Please,” she croaked. She hoped that whoever owned this dog returned soon, and that they new first-aid.

The dog slowed. He sniffed her wounded arm and whined. His ears went flat once more and he nudged her gently, before raising his head and barking loudly.

“Dogmeat?”

A voice broke through Rebecca’s pain and she blinked, looking up in surprise. It was that of a woman, concern in her tone. As if in response, the dog barked again, clawing at the ground in his urgency.

A woman appeared from the shadows that lead deeper into the gas station. She had blonde hair, pulled back into a tight tail. There was confusion in the tilt of her head and quirk of her brow. “Dogmeat, what - oh. Oh my god.” She rushed forward and knelt beside Rebecca, reaching out with both hands. She seemed not to care about the blood dripping onto the floor.  “Holy shit. Hold on, just hold on. I’ve got a stimpak around here somewhere.”

The woman stood up again and crossed the room. She rummaged through what looked to be a medical kit, before returning and uncapping the needle she held in her hand. Wincing at the sight of the wound, she injected the contents of the needle into Rebecca’s shoulder.

Rebecca hissed at the fresh pain. A cooling sensation immediately flowed through her shoulder. It was like ice on a sprain, a twinge of pain and then numb relief.

"Here, let me look at that.” The woman gestured to the wound on Rebecca’s arm. “Damn. What the hell got you? Dogs, it looks like. Damned hounds. Looks like I’ll have to go hunting again.”

As she spoke, she got up and grabbed the kit before sitting next to Rebecca, “Dogmeat, go stand watch, will you? There could be more, and if they catch wind of all this blood, they’ll follow it here,” she added this for Rebecca’s benefit as the dog trotted off. “Now, about this wound…”

The woman unceremoniously inspected it and, muttering to herself, fished out several things from the kit. Rebecca pulled away instinctively as she cleaned it, wincing at the burn.

“Thanks,” she managed to grit out as the woman worked. “But who are you?”

“My name’s Anna. I live here at the truck stop with Dogmeat.”

"He’s your dog, then?”

“Well.” Anna considered this as she traded the antiseptic for a needle and what looked like thread. “I don’t really own him. He’s my best friend. We’ve been traveling together for a few years now, after I stumbled across this place. He’d been living here, you see.”

Here she used the needle to sew together one of the more ragged wounds in Rebecca’s arm. She did this without complaint, and her movements were sure. “Damn,” she swore again. “I’m sorry. Hurts like hell, I know, but we don’t need you losing any more blood. Stimpaks only do so much. It should heal you up just fine, and it should help protect you from most infections. But still.” She seemed calm, but there was worry in the tenseness of her shoulders and the shine in her eyes. She narrated as she worked, as if explaining it would help.

“What’s your name, then?” Anna asked after she was done.

"Rebecca. I - oh.” She peered down at the wound and grimaced. Now that most of the blood had been removed, she could clearly see the ragged bite marks. “God, it’s a wonder I didn’t lose that arm. Too bad he didn’t get me lower, the Pip-Boy may have protected me.”

Anna was nodding, fishing fresh gauze from the kit. “The dogs around here are a menace. I usually some across a pack a couple times a year. It’s nice to meet you, by the way. Though I can’t say that this is a great first impression.” She added this last bit with a frown.

The gauze went around Rebecca’s injury and she sighed then, a content feeling settling over her mind. Here was someone in this new world. And this someone was helping her.

“Thank you,” she said again, smiling for the first time since exiting the vault.

Anna returned it. “You’re welcome. That stim should be kicking in about now, I believe. The pain easing a bit? Good. Now,” she stood and wiped her hands on a clean rag from a nearby shelf. She helped Rebecca to stand and then looked her over, taking in the suit and bold yellow numbers. “111. That’s the vault just north of here, isn’t it?”

Rebecca frowned. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I travel a lot, and I know a good portion of this region. I’ve gained quite a few scars, and - I daresay,” she continued ruefully, “A little bit of a reputation. I would ask why the hell you are out here in the open at this hour, but now is not the time. Here, come on in proper.”

She lead the way into the station, reaching out to light a nearby lantern. The bright orange glow illuminated the space and Rebecca looked around with interest. It was worn, the items tattered and aged, but it looked comfortable enough.

There was a counter separating the hallway from the back, and it was covered in a few old vases. Tools poked out of one and flowers out of the others. A notebook with some scrawled writing lay open near the lantern, notes or letters maybe. There was also a mug and, inhaling eagerly, Rebecca detected something akin to coffee steaming within.

Beyond that lay a tight, yet cozy, living space. A plush sofa stood against the far wall, piled with a few pillows and, to her amusement, three teddy bears. In front of it stood a low table, piled with some more scrap and a few dining accessories. There were a few low bookshelves, stacked with novels worn with age and disrepair. A rug covered the cold floor here, thick and inviting.

“Oh,” she breathed. “This place is great.”

“I think so,” Anna replied with a wink. “Take a seat, please. I’ll get you something to eat.”

Rebecca shuffled over to the sofa and tiredly sank into its cushions, smiling happily. This place may not be the clean grandeur she was used to from before the bombs fell, but it was a happy place. Lived in. She breathed easy, feeling a bit of her stress ebbing away.

Hearing the sound of claws on stone, she glanced up to see the dog returning. He trotted up to her and whined, as if asking if she was alright. “I’m okay, boy. You’re friend patched me right up. Thanks for calling for her, by the way. You’re a good boy.”

At the classic words, his tail wagged. He sat and leaned against her leg, looking up at her over his shoulder. Rebecca reached out with her good hand and scratched behind his ears, smiling faintly. Warren had mentioned getting a dog, claiming to always want one. He had never had one growing up, and now that they had their own house, it was time. She had eagerly agreed, but they had never gotten the chance.

Blinking away the tears, lest her new friend see them, she sat back and continued looking around. To her right was a door, a thing obviously reclaimed from somewhere else. It must lead to a back office, and she wondered how it had be repurposed.

Anna returned a few minutes later and Rebecca shook herself, feeling exhaustion pulling at her limbs. “I’m sure all you want to do is sleep,” Anna remarked quietly. “But I brought some water and something to eat. Don’t worry, Dogmeat won’t steal any.”

Rebecca smiled her thanks and took the plate. She didn’t recognize what kind of meat it was and frowned as several distasteful options ran through her mind.

“It’s radroach.” The reply was quiet and followed by a chuckle. “Not the most appetizing, I know. But out here there isn’t too many choices. Those damn things are everywhere.”

“Radroach,” Rebecca echoed. “You mean those cockroaches the size of cats?”

“The very same. It’s not too bad; I’ve learned a few tricks to make them better.”

Shrugging, Rebecca ate without any further questions. True, the meat was less that pleasing, but it was warm and that was all that she cared about. She unsealed the water and drank deeply, her eyes closing as her immediate needs were met. “Thank you again,” she spoke as Anna took the dishes from her. “I - I didn’t expect there to be anyone up here.”

Her words were dark, and her voice darker. Anna nodded in simple understanding before speaking. “Get some sleep. There will be time for questions tomorrow.”

Unable to argue, Rebecca carefully laid down and cradled her arm close to her chest. Her eyes closed, she listened to Anna walk away, Dogmeat padding attentively at her heels. Then there was nothing as sleep overcame her.

 

“At least we still have the spare.”

Rebecca stared into the eyes of the mercenary. Cold, dark eyes. A ghastly scar. It was all she could make sense of. Her body was numb with ice and her mind struggled to process the scene before her. Who was he? Why had he come here and attacked them?

Here? She couldn’t remember where she was, or how she got there. But what she did know, what she could see plainly in front of her eyes, was that something was wrong. A baby was crying. Her baby. And had that been a gunshot?

She wanted to fight, to reach out and take back her baby. Her fists pounded weakly at the glass encasing her. A scream bubbled up her throat but it couldn’t reach past her lips.

As the man walked away, Rebecca looked across the darkened room to see Warren. He was slumped over in the alien restraints, blood splattered across the frosted window. He had been shot, she realized suddenly. He was dead.

She tugged at her own restraints. She needed to get out. But her body was cold and her mind foggy, unable to make sense of anything. The only thoughts in her head were of Warren and Shaun. One dead and the other disappearing.

A buzzing voice broke against her ear and she flinched. A fresh jet of frigid air encased her and she felt herself slow. _No_ , she protested feebly. She had to go. Shaun was being taken away from her. They were getting away.

They were getting away…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, we need to find your boy, huh?”  
>  Rebecca looked up in surprise. “We?”  
>  “Yeah. If you’ll have me. Look, losing family is hard, no doubt about it. I’ve been there, several times. If there is something I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

     A wet nose nuzzled her ear and Rebecca gasped, jerking awake. Pain shot up her left arm and she felt her eyes squeeze shut, tears streaming down her face. The nose retreated suddenly and she heard a faint whine.

“Dogmeat,” she said as she remembered. She opened her eyes again and blinked at the german shepherd who leaned against the sofa where she lay. His tail wagged a few times and he whined again, like he was trying to reassure her. “Have you been sitting there all right?”

There was no answer, but she smiled regardless. “Well, thank you. But I’m okay. Just a bad dream.” She pulled herself to a sitting position and reached out with her good arm to scratch under his chin. “To be honest with you, I’d rather be here than in that dream. Thanks for waking me.”

The hound licked her hand and stood, trotting away. She watched him go before leaning back on the sofa. Glancing down she found that she had curled up with all three of the teddy bears present, finding one by her head, one behind her back, and the other now on the floor by her feet. She smiled in amusement before her eyes caught on the bandages on her arm.

“I’m going to need a fresh one of these soon,” she muttered but pushed the thought away. She was alive and, though in an unfamiliar world with no idea of where to find her son, she was safe for now. Picking up the discarded bear and placing him back on the sofa, she stood and shuffled out of the back of the station.

Sunlight shone down, bright and warm. It illuminated the yard of the truck stop, where she could see cracked pavement choked by weeds and dried grass. Time had taken a toll on this building, but it had remained standing. “How long has it been?” she wondered for the second time. Looking out further, she spotted Dogmeat sniffing the ground as he followed his human friend Anna across the pavement.

The latter spotted Rebecca standing before the windows. She waved and trotted over, hooking the wrench in her hand through a loop in her belt. “Glad to see you’re awake. Dogmeat seems quite taken with you. He stayed at your side most of the night.”

“I thought so,” Rebecca replied easily. “You’ve found yourself quite the loyal companion.”

Anna smiled in reply before gesturing to the bandages on her arm. “How’s your arm?”

“Very sore still. I may have slept on it or something with how numb it was when I fell asleep.” Indeed, the wound had been numb by the time she laid down. She knew that it would still hurt when whatever Anna had injected into her arm wore off, but was thankful for the brief reprieve. “What was that, that you used on my arm?”

“A stimpak. It’s a condensed drug used all over the Commonwealth as a kind of first aid. Numbs pain, like you said, but also helps to actually heal injuries too. Let me take a look again.” Anna nodded back to the station itself and they headed back into the garage. She pulled out a stool for Rebecca before dragging over her medical kit again.

Rebecca took in the clean floor of the garage, noting the lack of blood or dirtied bandages. Her new friend must have worked to clean it all up. She wondered, idly, how many times she had done just that. 

When she was seated, Anna took her arm and gently removed the gauze from her wound. A pleased smile broke over her face and she nodded to herself. “Good,” she said. “The bleeding has stopped and some of the smaller cuts have healed up nicely. We’ll keep these stitches in for a bit, but your arm will make a full recovery.”

“No scar?”

Anna glanced up, raising one eyebrow. “Probably not. As much as it may look like it, I’m no doctor, so I’m not sure. I’m just a scavver good at patching people up.”

“Oh.” Rebecca fell quiet then, feeling guilty for worrying about a scar. She glanced away, realizing in the light of day that Anna had quite a few of her own. One was a ragged reddish mark crawling up her neck to curl over her left jaw. It seemed to be a burn of some kind, faded from time but still very visible. A second, much fainter, slashed across her right eyebrow, traveling down across her eye to end on her cheekbone. This one was much older, leaving little behind but a faint white line. And there were others, scattered along her forearms. “Forgive me, that was tactless.”

The scavver looked surprised. “Forgiven,” she said with a grin. “It’s an honest question, though. Now, to wrap this arm back up.” Anna repeated her actions from the night before and rewrapped the injury with clean gauze. “A few more days and that’ll be gone. Did you need another stim? It won’t hurt.”

Rebecca nodded, feeling the ache returning to her arm. “I’ve never been a fan of needles myself, but I’d rather that then this pain.” She sighed as the cool feeling invaded her arm again, flexing her fingers slowly.

“We do what we have to, out here.” Anna returned the kit to its place on the shelf and pulled a face. “I’ll need to make a trip out to get supplies soon. No, it’s not your fault. I needed them anyway and this will be the perfect excuse to get off my ass.”

She pulled a second stool out and sat down, wiping off her hands with another rag. “Probably make a trip to Diamond City, unless a trader comes by. That doesn’t often happen in this area though. Dogmeat will like the trip, at any rate.” Anna seemed to be speaking mostly to herself, so Rebecca stayed silent. 

The scavver looked up then, frowning. “I can spare some clothes, if you wanted to change.” At the agreeing nod, she smiled faintly. “Good. We can wash that suit of yours, too.”

Gratitude filled Rebecca again, but she didn’t think Anna would take kindly to her giving out thank yous all day. So instead she remained quiet, silently grateful that she had found someone kind in this new world. 

“I understand you’re from that vault. That you come wandering this direction alone at night, with nothing but a Pip-Boy and a pistol, strikes me as bad news. May I ask what happened?” Anna said this quietly, her brows draw together. 

Rebecca closed her eyes, her head bowed toward her clenched fists. “I used to live in that town, the one over the hill. But they tricked us, I think. They said that we were supposed to be safe. The radiation couldn’t reach us inside the vault. Welcome to a new life, underground.” She sighed then, feeling her anger return. “Only a little while, until we could return home.”

“They?” Anna spoke. 

“Called themselves Vault-Tec,” Rebecca answered the question, looking up again. Her arm was feeling better now and she shifted slightly, stretching it out. “I signed this form, something about reserving my place. Only as a precaution, of course.”

The scavenger remained silent, contemplating her fingernails. Under the buttoned shirt she wore, her shoulders were tense.

“The people who worked there handed us these suits, and told us to go down the hallway to be decontaminated. Only these decontaminating pods froze us. Or something,” she added quietly. She still didn’t quite understand what had happened.

“That sounds like cryo sleep to me,” Anna said. “I don’t know much about vaults, and even less about their creator, but I do know that most failed. There is a lot of speculation about that, I hear. So that’s what happened to Vault 111. Damn.”

“It happened twice, actually.” When Rebecca continued, Anna looked up with interest. “I woke up a while ago, but couldn’t escape. Some people came down and…”

There was a hitch in her voice and the scavver frowned. “Hey, you don’t have to continue. I can assume that some nasty stuff happened down there.”

Rebecca was shaking her head, feeling her eyes burn with more tears. “It wasn’t Vault-Tec. It was someone else. H-he shot Warren. He shot my husband and took my son. I couldn’t get out in time before they refroze me. I don’t know how long it’s been. I don’t even know where he went.”

“Oh my god.” Anna reached out and took both of her hands. “I’m so sorry. That sounds like a nightmare. Christ,” she added, pulling away and running a hand over her hair. “So, we need to find your boy, huh?”

Rebecca looked up in surprise. “We?”

“Yeah. If you’ll have me. Look, losing family is hard, no doubt about it. I’ve been there, several times. If there is something I can do to help, I’ll do it.” 

“Unless you can track down an unnamed man who may be on the other side of the world by now, I don’t see how you can.” Despair ate at Rebecca as she sat there, arms wrapped around her belly. In this world, where was she supposed to start looking? She stood up and walked a few paces away, looking out at the dusty world. 

A vision of the bomb dropping appeared in her mind and she let it play. It lit up the horizon brighter than the sun. And after it came a wave of debris, dust and stones flung into her face and those of the neighbors who stood beside her. The platform to the vault had lowered just in time, its hydraulics screeching in the rush to get them below the ground.

“I know of someone who can.”

At Anna’s voice, she turned around. “What?”

A grin tugged at the other woman’s lips. “Just what I said. I have a friend who might be able to help you. His name’s Nick Valentine and he works out of Diamond City. Old school detective. If anyone can find your son, it’d be him.”

“A detective?” Hope, dangerous hope, skittered in her belly. “Can I meet him?”

“Of course. I told you I have to go to Diamond City for supplies. You can tag along and I’ll introduce you. Honestly, I guarantee he’ll help you.” Anna smiled then, and it was a fond smile. “He’s got a soft spot for cases like yours.”

“When can we go?” Rebecca was eager, wanting to get started. Time was slipping away, and she didn’t know how much had already passed.

The hope in her eyes must have convinced the scavver, because she smiled indulgently. “I’ll have to pack some supplies for us to make it. The trip is a hard journey, several hours over difficult terrain. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

 

Rebecca dunked her bloody vault suit in the metal bucket, suds frothing near the rim. Using a wooden pole, obviously cut from a nearby tree, she stirred determinedly. The suds soon turned dark, stained with the color of blood and road travel. Sighing, she pulled it out and noticed that there were still stained spots. Tossing it back in, she followed it with her hands and worked them out herself.

It was almost soothing. After the events of the past 24 hours, she needed something simple to put her mind at ease. She had spent the day, after discussing the details of their trip to Diamond City, helping Anna around the truck stop. There was a never ending list of tasks involved in keeping it standing and secure. There were repairs to make, from the building itself, to the water pump (which, to her amazement, filtered the groundwater to be suitable for drinking), to the fence around Anna’s precious crop of food. And then there were improvements to be made, food to make, and what Anna called “raiders” to keep a watch for.

“It’s a lot of work, living out here like this, but it suits me. I grew up like this, you know. A small farming community. I used to do the tinkering around town. Fix a fence, help set up a shack for some new settlers. I even, once I got good enough, started to modify weapons. People there used to come to me for all kinds of stuff like that.” Anna had narrated this she showed Rebecca how to check the water pump to make sure it was working right. “Not much of it was easy, of course. But, then, not much living in this world is.”

“I believe you,” Rebecca had agreed, looking at the rusted pump with curiosity. “But that you and so many other people have survived out here is amazing. And I don’t mean to make light of it.”

Anna chuckled. “I know what you mean. Mankind continues. Mankind has always continued.”

Rebecca thought of that conversation as she pulled the vault suit out of the water and rinsed it off in another bucket. Her new friend was tough, no doubt, but cared for her fellow man. She still saw goodness in people. 

The vault suit was clean now and she hung it up to dry on the line that was strung from the side of the building to a tree standing about ten feet away. There was a bit of an evening breeze and the suit swayed a bit, displaying the ragged sleeve.

She turned around and headed back inside, pulling tight the grey jacket that she wore. Anna had given her a set of clothes, insisting that she take them. It was of no consequence, she said, she had enough. Rebecca frowned at this, guessing that her definition of “enough” was much different, but knowing that this came from her prewar life. Then she had had clothes, perhaps not as much as some, but enough that she didn’t have to wear the same more than once before washing.

But that was then. Now, what she wore was comfortable and warm, and she found herself content with that.

Inside, she spotted Dogmeat dozing in the middle of the floor, curled on another thick rug. At the sound of her steps, his eyes opened and his tail thumped against the ground a few times in greeting.

“Just in time.” Anna glanced over at her from where she stood over a makeshift stove. It was small but recognizable. Earlier in their rounds, the scavver had explained that it was a common build, one that many people used across the region. It used logs, or really anything that the cook could find. “There’s some of the carrots and corn from earlier. You want to prepare them?”

Rebecca smiled in agreement and took her place at the counter, sitting on the stool behind it. She sliced the carrots and stripped the corn, before coming over to the stove and carefully dumping them into the pot beside the one where some more meat simmered.

“What’s this kind?” she asked, gesturing with her chin.

Anna used a fork to shift the meat in the pan. “Radstag. Much better tasting, trust me.”

“That’s a lot of rad-somethings.”

The scavver snorted. “You’re telling me. People are original, aren’t they?”

The two enjoyed the quiet companionship as the meal finished cooking. Anna combined the three ingredients, spooning the vegetables in with the meat and adding some kind of spice. She then reached down and twisted the dial for the oven, turning it off. “Help yourself,” she said, handing Rebecca a plate.

There was a small metal table, two foot square perhaps, against the wall near the counter. They sat there, Dogmeat happily chewing away at his share of dinner. The scavver pulled out two bottles of Nuka-Cola and offered one to Rebecca, who excitedly accepted. The taste was the same, bringing back many fond memories.

“I didn’t even think. Jesus, they must’ve made a lot if there are still some today.” She closed her eyes and savored the taste of the soda. 

Anna readily agreed. She stirred the food on her plate as she spoke. “You can find the vending machines, even. Most still have a bottle or two if you check. As long as the bottles are sealed, it’s safe to drink. Well, mostly safe.” She smiled when Rebecca looked up in alarm. “They’re faintly radioactive. Just traces, at least in most bottles. It won’t hurt you.”

Rebecca went back to her dinner, realizing that she knew little of the radiation that the old world had warned against. And, she realized with dread, she would need to learn. She lived alongside it know.

“So,” she spoke up, fork halfway to her mouth. “With all this radiation, how do people survive? I mean, my hair isn’t falling out yet.”

“That’s because there isn’t too much here. Other places, ones farther south or waste disposal sites, are another story. But most places are fine. More than what was before the war, but nothing that’ll kill you. They call it background radiation. You keep some rad-x on hand if you need it and you’ll be fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, the bombs dropped over 200 years ago, and none of them around this area. I suppose that’s enough time for most of it to fade.”

Rebecca lowered her fork. She blinked in shock before glancing around again. “200 years?” her voice was little more than a croak. “I’ve been in that vault for 200 years. That’s...that’s more than I can wrap my head around.”

The scavver tipped her head to the side. “I expect you had no idea of time, being frozen like you were. And there aren’t exactly calendars anymore.”

“Well, at least now I know. I’ve been wondering, of course. Has it been ten years? Fifty?” Rebecca glanced down at her plate. “But how many years have passed since he was kidnapped?”

“Hey, we’ll find him. We just have to follow his trail, and the first step is to go to Diamond City and get some help.” Anna collected their dishes again and promptly washed them, rinsing out their bottles even, with some of the water she had pulled from the well earlier. “It’s late. Get some sleep, we have an early start tomorrow.”

Rebecca agreed, heading back to the sofa she had slept on the night before.  _ The first step, _ she thought, rubbing her eyes as they started to burn. It was likely the first of many. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and sticking with me so far. I promise we'll get to some action in the next chapter! Feel free to leave a comment below and let me know if you find any mistakes. I'm planning to update this about once a week. Hopefully I can stick to it. Either way, have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca begins the search for her son as she and her new friend make the trip to Diamond City. She is overwhelmed by the nuclear wasteland and its unfamiliar dangers, and when they make it safely to the city she discovers that even experienced residents of the Commonwealth can go missing.

    Rebecca donned the leather armor, frowning at the straps before buckling them into place. She had little experience with this kind of attire and that she needed it was a bit overwhelming. 

It was comfortable though, and the added protection helped to soothe her worries about the journey she was about to undertake. She hooked her 10mm onto the loop at her hip, touching the pocket that held fresh ammunition. 

She carried a satchel and within was some food. The hardy travel rations could be eaten at any point. And beside those were a few stims and some medical gauze. Hopefully, Rebecca thought ruefully, these would not be necessary.

The sound of a door opening brought her out of her reverie, and she turned to see Anna making her way outside. The scavver turned and secured the door, locking it and glancing around as if making sure everything was in order. Dogmeat ran outside, greeting Rebecca affectionately before trotting away. 

“That’s everything, then,” Anna spoke as she joined the other woman outside. She pulled on her own armor and slung a futuristic-looking rifle over her shoulder. “I make this trip regularly, so you’d think I would remember everything that I do each time. But no.”

She stretched and lowered her eyes to Rebecca’s bandages. “Let’s take one last look at that dog bite of yours, shall we?”

As Rebecca took a seat in the garage, Anna dug in her supplies for some scissors. Removing the bandages, she smiled. The wound was healing nicely. “We might want to take these out. You don’t need them anymore, I’d say.” She snipped the thread and gently removed it, disposing it in a wastebasket in the garage. “Now. Have you used your Pip-Boy yet?”

“No,” Rebecca answered, running her fingers over the nearly-healed wound. “I mean, I used it to unseal the vault door, but I haven’t done anything with it since.”

She opened the screen then, adjusting the dials to bring up the picture. It shone with a faint green light, displaying a menu with several tabs. She flicked through them, curious what they were. One showed objectives of some sort, but the list was empty. Another showed the outline of a person, walking confidently through the digital space.

“A map,” Rebecca said, settling on a third tab. “But there is nothing on it.”

“That’s still useful. Could you add to it yourself? Try adding this place.”

Nodding, the vault dweller worked the buttons and pinpointed the location where the truck stop rested. A screen popped up asking for a name, and she put in “Red Rocket Truck Stop”. And, before she lost her nerve, she added “Sanctuary Hills” and “Vault 111”.

“So where is Diamond City? About here?” Rebecca asked, pointing on the screen. She moved the cursor over to a place to the southeast, across a wide river. Another tab showed up, and she marked it as custom. 

Anna looked over at the map. “That’s about right. Try here,” she added, moving the marker over slightly. “There. We’ll be traveling southeast, but we’ll have to go around some areas.” Her own finger moved just above the screen as she narrated. “Nasty spots, full of raiders or ferals. So, you ready to get moving?”

Rebecca silently nodded, her hands moving to clutch the straps of her chest piece.

“Alright. Come on, Dogmeat, let’s go.”

    “You sleep okay?” she asked as she led the way down the rocky slope away from the station. She pulled out her rifle and glanced back, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really,” Rebecca answered slowly. Her dreams had not been any more pleasant that the night before. “How did you know? Did I wake you?”

“Of course not. I’m sorry for bringing it  up, but I know the look of someone who’s had a sleepless night. I struggle with it a bit myself.” Anna kept an eye on their environment as they talked, her eyes constantly scanning. “I don’t have any advice other than to keep moving. Is it something you would like to talk about?”

Rebecca shrugged faintly. “It’s just...what’s going on. What happened to my family, fear over losing my son. Worry about this journey, even. I don’t know what to expect out here, honestly.”

Anna remained silent, nodding sympathetically, so she continued. “The last few years before the bombs fell, the government kept telling us about the dangers of nuclear weapons. It was a state of fear, and the looming threat of...this hanging over our heads. Now that it’s happened, I don’t know what to think. I think I’m getting to the point where I have realized that, yes, Rebecca, it has happened. But internalizing it? Not yet.

“And I’m still reeling over Warren’s death. And this chance, to somehow, maybe, save my son.” Rebecca looked away, over the horizon. Rolling hills of golden, dried grass, interrupted with boulders, down power lines, and a wrecked town were all she could see. ”I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No, not at all. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. To lose it all, just like that.” 

The two women fell silent then, walking through the dried grass. Several times they had to climb over or around great boulders that stood in their way. The sun was still low in the sky, shining bright across the horizon.

Rebecca looked over at the houses in the distance. “Is that Concord?”

“Yes,” the scavver replied with a frown. “I haven’t been there in a while. Spent a bit scavenging in there, once. Found enough preserved food for a couple of days, and some really good scrap metal. From what it looks like now, it must’ve been quite a decent place to live.”

“I had some friends who lived there. It was a good place.” Rebecca remembered holidays visiting her friends who lived in a house on the outskirts of town. Quiet enough town, she had thought, as there were no highways or overpasses screeching above their yards. 

Anna was nodding, but gestured with an arm to keep away. “Raiders have been known to take up residence there. That day, I barely escaped without them seeing me. I probably would have been killed.”

“So there is no reasoning with these people? They sound like a real menace.”

“No,” the scavver replied. She flexed her fingers, her eyes flickering down to the rifle in her hands. “Any place that isn’t lived in, they could take over. And,” she added with irritation, “Any place that is lived in, too.”

“Jesus,” Rebecca said and looked fearfully at the town. Imaging her friend’s house, invaded by gun-toting killers like Anna described, made her feel sick. 

They passed a cabin about a half hour later. That it was still standing surprised Rebecca, but then, she reminded herself, she had seen worse in this new world. It leaned on its foundation, shutters long since rotted off, and paint peeling off the sides. They passed it carefully, Anna stressing quiet. 

A stirring sound came from within and Rebecca froze, clamping her mouth shut.  _ Raiders? _ She thought. Readying her pistol, she waited beside the similarly frozen scavver.

“Ah,” said scavver said then. “I thought so. That,” she said and pointed at the shuffling shape within. “Is a feral ghoul. Radiation did this to him. Not enough to kill, but enough to rot their brains.”

Nausea curled in Rebecca’s stomach as she watched the figure move onto the porch. It was that of a man, scarred as if from some great fire. Reddish, creased skin covered his body, the flesh itself shrunk in some areas to cling straight to his bones. Movies featuring zombies came to mind.

The ghoul stood there for a bit, shaking and swaying on his feet. Anna watched it carefully, one finger resting on the trigger. But, when it wandered back inside the cabin, she seemed to let out a breath and gestured for Rebecca to follow as she moved on into the undergrowth. Dogmeat, whining softly, padded beside her.

“Take care when approaching buildings, or even moving past vehicles on the street. Ferals may look dead at first glance, but will wake up and attack if they notice you.” The scavver stood up when they were far enough away. “The bite will not make you like them, don’t worry. What they will do, however, is gang up on you.”

Rebecca paled and glanced over her shoulder before taking a deep breath and continuing after her guide. 

“Who lives up there?” Rebecca spoke up, pointing at the overpass ahead of them. She wiped sweat from her forehead, scowling at the heat as it burned her shoulders even through her jacket. Since they had left just as the sun was blinking over the horizon, it was still morning. The sun shone down on them, relentless as always. “That doesn’t seem all that safe.”

Anna agreed, chuckling. “No, but you can’t let that stop you. Looks like trouble, though. Let’s move this direction.” She led the way farther away from the highway, peering up at the man-made structures as she did. A low sound of discomfort came from her, and she called Dogmeat to her side. She then added, “Gunners, to be specific. See that skull?”

Following her finger, the vault dweller saw a skull painted white on a barricade set up along the road nearby. It was a frowning thing, seeming to leer at them no matter where they moved. There was an X on its forehead and she blinked, resolving to always remember the sign.

“Mercenaries,” Anna explained. “They’ll take the contract, no matter how grisly. If you can avoid it - “

“Never tangle with them?” Rebecca finished with a frown. “Got it.”

“Oh, you’ll make a fine scavver. Hopefully, they won’t see us. Sometimes they have snipers up there with them. Though I can’t fault their placement. High up, with a hell of a view of the surrounding area. Set up shop right over that road, too. Too many caravans have been ambushed in places just like this one.”

The vault dweller stepped over a fallen tree and worked her way down a steep slope. “They sound like raiders. Only they get paid to do terrible things.” She stopped to catch her breath at the bottom. “That level of organization spells disaster.”

“You’re telling me.” Anna said this grimly. She glanced around one last time before sitting on a nearby rock. “Take a break. We’re making good time.”

Rebecca followed suit and stretched out on the ground. “So,” she spoke up after a few minutes of rest. “How long does it take to make it to the fabled Diamond City?”

“A couple of hours. I’ve made it in five before, but I was traveling fast. See, we left about, what? 6?” Anna thought for a moment. “I’d say, if we keep this pace, we might make it by noon, or 1 o’ clock. You check your map?”

The vault dweller did so, lifting her arm above her head and navigating to the map on her Pip-Boy. They weren’t too far from the river now. “Do we have a boat to cross that river? Or are we swimming?” Though this was a joke, she shuddered slightly at the thought. She had never learned to swim.

Anna laughed quietly. “Not to many boats still work, these days. Most can be found either on the bottom, or somehow still partially above the surface. I know it’s just physics, but sometimes it seems that it’s some kind of divine touch that keeps those fuckers afloat.”

Rebecca joined in her laughter. It felt good.

“Lots of salvage though,” the scavver spoke again, winking. “But you’d need some kind of suit to reach most. And a lot of rad-x to withstand the radiation. Not to mention that amount of people who use the waterways as bathrooms.”

“That’s disgusting. But, I don’t suppose there is any plumbing left, is there?”

“Not that I know of. Water filtration pumps are the only examples I can think of. Some can be built into the river or lakes themselves. They work miracles, cleaning and sanitizing gallons of water at a time.” Anna had an almost wistful look on her face. “I’ve seen them, and helped repair one once, but never actually employed one myself. I just keep to my small groundwater one.”

Rebecca stood up, finding the sun again as it shone down on them. “Want to get moving? I don’t want to put us behind schedule.” Privately, she felt that Anna would keep talking if she was not stopped.

“Of course, good call.”

“To answer your question from earlier, that is how we will cross the river.”

The other woman’s voice broke Rebecca out of her thoughts. They had been walking for another hour, crisscrossing a few railroad tracks and steering clear of a factory sitting ominously on the horizon. Corvega, if she remembered correctly. It had been a car manufacturer before the war. Now, she wondered if raiders or settlers had made it their home.

Rebecca looked down at an orange railroad bridge crossing the wide expanse of the river. “Of course. Have to take merchandise in and out of downtown Boston.” With renewed energy, she took off down the hill. They weren’t far now. It hadn’t been too far of a drive, she remembered. Long, perhaps, as they waited in the traffic, but not far. 

She could see the city in the distance. Skyscrapers still stood tall, as if taunting gravity to take them down. Apartments, malls, businesses. 

“Take it easy,” Anna called out. She caught up to her, following her gaze towards Boston. “I know you’re eager to get to the city. But we have to navigate through a warzone to get there. You never know where a raider or the like is hiding. With those buildings so close together, and so many alleys barricaded by one gang or another, a shot can come from anywhere.”

“Right.” Rebecca stopped and readjusted the grip she had on her 10mm. “Perfect hiding place for an attacker. I guess some things just never change, do they?”

“That’s the truth,” the scavver replied with a smile.

They crossed the bridge, squeezing past a few train cars all the while keeping their senses alert for the sounds of a feral stirring. On the other side, they skirted around the factory to their left, writing it off as dangerous and a waste of daylight. As they moved on, they came to a bit of open ground, where thick bands of trees stood together between gentle hills.

A while passed, both women walking steadily, making great progress to the city that now loomed so close. Rebecca could hardly wait to reach Diamond City, for now it was not only home to that detective Anna had mentioned, but it also offered shelter from the wilds and, maybe, somewhere to eat properly. Though grateful for packing them, the meager rations in her pack left much to be desired when it came to her hunger.

“Down!”

Anna shoved Rebecca down by the shoulder. Something whizzed over their heads and she flinched. Her fingers fumbled with her pistol as she listened for more clues. Who had shot at them?

“Dammit! Super mutant. I hope he’s the only one!” Anna shifted and leaned around the boulder they crouched behind. The rifle in her hands recoiled into her shoulder as she fired two greenish projectiles at their attacker. 

Rebecca peeked over the boulder and blanched at what she saw. A tall, hulking creature stood a distance away, green-skinned and clad in a kind of metal armor. “What in the name of?” she asked, but held out her pistol and fired anyway. Whatever it was, it needed to be put down before they were both killed.

“Watch out! He’s got a hound with him!” Anna kept firing, ducking behind the boulder at intervals. “Dogmeat! Fuck, he better know what he’s doing.”

The dog had streaked out from behind their shelter and they soon heard the sound of snarling and snapping jaws. Rebecca looked out again and saw that he had leapt at the mutated hound creature, and had brought it down. He tore into its neck, growling viciously. She watched in horror as the two animals tussled, blood splattering the grass.

Not wanting to risk hitting Dogmeat, Rebecca turned her attention to the mutant. He taunted them, his voice distorted and angry. He raised his weapon, a modified rifle of some kind, and fired another shot. She ducked behind the boulder and heard the bullet ricochet off the stone, wincing as she did so. This was so much more than fighting a few stray dogs. This was unlike anything she had ever encountered.

Taking in a deep breath, she twisted and peered around the boulder, lining up the shot and pulling the trigger several times. The mutated man roared with pain as they struck him, one great hand clutching one of the wounds.

Three more greenish shots came from the other side of the boulder and she heard Anna swear again. Dogmeat, however, shook himself and streaked back over for cover, his fur a dark, purplish red.

“Oh Dogmeat, no,” Rebecca murmured, crouching beside him.

“Give him a stimpak. When this is over, I’ll clean him up.”

As Anna stood and continued firing, Rebecca frantically dug through her pack and pulled out one of the needles. Uncapping it, she reached out to part the fur on the dog’s shoulder. “Here you go, buddy. Just stay still for me. Good boy.” She soothed the dog as she worked, injecting the medicine and continuing to look for injuries. Thankfully, he seemed to have only sustained a few, some scratches across his haunches, and a bite on his shoulder. Most of the blood had come from the mutated hound.

Dogmeat licked her chin before moving over to Anna’s side, where he sat attentively at her heels. The scavver pulled back, shielding her face as a bullet struck the boulder where her face had been a heartbeat before and chipped away some of the stone. “Damn super mutant. They just don’t go down.”

Rebecca frowned and moved one last time, aiming for the mutant’s head. Firing several times, she struck him twice. One hit his eye and the other the corner of his mouth. He swayed then, screeching incoherently, and collapsed to the ground. He twitched for a few moments before settling into an unnatural stillness.

“Is...is it over?”

“I think so. If there were others in the area, they would have come at the gunshots. Still,” she added and stood up. She peered around, her brown eyes scanning. Finally she slumped in relief, leaning against the boulder that had kept them safe. “One mutant traveling alone. Rare, that. But I’m not here to figure out why.”

The scavver crouched next to Dogmeat and carefully cleaned his wounds. She make a sound of unmistakable relief when she realized his wounds were few. The stimpak had done some incredible work, sealing up most of them and stopping the bleeding of the rest. When the dog’s fur was clean, Anna stood up and disposed of the rags. “We were lucky. You,” she added sternly to Dogmeat, “were lucky. Crazy hound, you are. That beast is twice your size.”

She gestured to the mutated hound that he had bravely took on. It was on its side, throat torn out and belly shredded. More of the same viscous blood smeared the ground beneath it. “I like your moxie, but damn.” Here she chuckled and scratched the dog’s ears, smiling faintly. 

Rebecca averted her eyes, having caught the glint of tears in her friend’s eyes.

“Now,” Anna spoke again and led the way over to the mutated man’s body. She crouched and rifled through the pockets of his armor, her face hard and inscrutable. “Here, take these. They don’t match your pistol but they will match this.” She picked up the gun he had been using and inspected it. “Not bad. Not as reliable, but a lot more powerful than that 10mm. Watch your shoulder, it might have a hell of a kick.”

Rebecca took the weapon, shouldering it and closing one eye as she aimed a a far off tree. “I’m not that familiar with these kinds of things,” she admitted, dropping the gun. “I used to be a lawyer. Just a lawyer.”

“Well, you could have fooled me.” Anna turned away from the body and peered up at the vault dweller over her shoulder. “You kicked ass. Well done.”

“Lucky shot,” Rebecca countered evenly. “I’m no marksman.”

Anna rolled her eyes and stood up. “Yeah, several lucky shots. And,” she added, holding up her hand. “You held your own against those hounds your first night out of the vault. Sure, you got injured. Nasty stuff, but you’re alive. Nothing a few stims and some old fashioned rest can’t fix. With some practice, you’ll be even better. Get used to watching your surroundings, learn what to look for, the whole deal.”

“You really think that I am this gifted soldier?”

“Soldier? I don’t know about that. Soldiers are for the Brotherhood and prewar armies. But you’ll make a fine citizen of the Commonwealth. Now, come on. We should keep moving in case this guy did have friends.”

The two women wove their way through the alleys of downtown Boston. They passed raider outposts, a few noisy super mutant nests, and several times had to double back around one barricade or another. “I’d be afraid to live here. Too many buildings that could topple over any second,” Rebecca remarked as they approached Diamond City. 

Anna nodded heartedly. “Agreed. I lived here for a while, and while I did like the security and the shops in walking distance, it felt too cramped. Too many people.”

“You said you used to live out in the wasteland? In some a farming community?”

“Yeah. Town is gone now, of course. That’s the reason I ended up in Diamond City. I had nowhere else to go, and no friends to take me in. So I walked all the way here, and here I found just that.” Anna smiled then, before pointing to another barricade. There was a symbol painted on the green background, a stylized diamond. Atop it stood a clean turret, reliably scanning the area for hostiles. “That’s the sign of the city. We’re close. The gate should be nearby.”

They passed two men wearing leather armor, their helmets reminiscent of prewar baseball helmets. In their hands were steel bats and on their backs standard shotguns. They stopped when they saw the women, watching them carefully as they approached.

“Put the gun away,” Anna advised, doing the same with hers. “Morning, guys! You mean you don’t recognize me?”

One laughed then, lowering his bat and shaking his head. “Damn Anna. Haven’t seen you in months. Finally decided to stop by, huh?” He reached out as he did so and caught the younger man’s arm and forced it down. “And who’s this?”

“A friend of mine. Any news from the city?”

“Just the same shit,” he replied. The women drew closer and Rebecca could see dark, silvered hair poking out from underneath his helmet. “City’s still standing, her wall is still chipping paint, and the citizens are still afraid of a synth uprising. You been taking care? Some of us here have been worried about you.”

“Yeah, no need to worry. Look, I have to buy some supplies and talk to Nick. I’ll talk to you later?” Anna waved a farewell and they continued towards the city. A great green wall rose up on their side, supports rising from the ground. 

“Diamond City. Diamond. Why didn’t I think of that.” Rebecca rolled her eyes as she realized what this place was. “This is an old baseball stadium, isn’t it? Fenway park.”

“Yep. And if you think that it looks like hell now, you should’ve seen it years ago. It’s taken some hits, Diamond City, but it always manages to stay standing.” 

They rounded the corner and came to the plaza before the stadium’s gate. The midday sun beat down on the concrete, illuminating the open space and preventing anyone from sneaking in. A voice, harsh and angry, broke through the air.

“Open this door!”

Rebecca frowned and spotted a woman standing off to the side, speaking into an intercom on the wall. She wore a long red jacket and cap, her torn jeans tucked into a pair of muddy boots. She was furious, her eyes flashing as she spoke.

“I’m sorry Piper, but I’m under orders not to let you in.”

“Danny, you open this gate right now. I live here. You can’t just keep me out!” The woman sighed then, exasperated. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes found the concrete beneath her feet.

Anna crossed her arms across her chest. She shook her head when Rebecca looked her way in askance. She shrugged then, seeming to roll her eyes as she watched the exchange.

“McDonough’s really steamed about what you said about him. You’ve done it this time.” The voice on the intercom was just as tired as the woman looked, resigned and plainly only doing his job.

“Oh, he’s afraid?” The woman looked up again, her eyes narrowing. “Afraid of the big, scary reporter? Boo!” Here she acted on her words, walking right up to the intercom and raising her arms above her head. 

Rebecca snorted in laughter, finding the entire situation ridiculous. This snagged the reporter’s attention and she blinked in surprise at the two women. “About time you showed back up,” she said to Anna, who chuckled in amusement. “I was starting to worry.”

Here she turned her attention to Rebecca, taking in her appearance as if sizing her up. Suddenly she grinned and leaned in towards her. “Hey,” she started in a conspiratorial whisper. “You want into Diamond City? Just play along.”

“Jesus, Piper.” Anna said this evenly, as if annoyed, but the smile on her face betrayed her.

Piper ignored her and moved back over to the intercom. “What’s that?” she asked slowly, as if listening to something. Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but the reporter waved a hand, silencing her. “You say you’re a trader up from Quincy? And you can keep the general store stocked for a month?”

“Oh, sure.”

Anna elbowed her in the ribs, shaking her head. “Just let her.”

“Hey, Danny! You, uh, going to keep her out and let Myrna miss out on all this great stock?” Piper gestured towards Rebecca, even though it was obvious there was no camera to see her.

“Christ, Piper. Fine. Hold on.”

The gate rumbled then, shaking the ground they stood on. It screeched as it rose, hydraulics straining to lift the heavy contraption. Rebecca gazed up at it in wonder, wondering just who designed the gate, as it wasn’t anything she recognized.

“We better head inside, before Danny catches on to the old ruse.” Piper nodded and the three women walked through the gate and into the shadows of the interior. 

Rebecca, grateful to be out of the sun, sighed. She was here. 

“You!” 

She flinched at the angry tone, looking to see a man approach them. He wore a suit and bowler hat, his face reddening with fury. Freezing to the spot, she glanced at Anna for direction, but the scavver was looking at him with something close to disgust. That boded well, she thought.

“You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer!” He pointed at Piper, shaking his head in irritation. His mustache, carefully brushed, quivered as he spoke again. “I’ll have that printing press scrapped for parts!”

“Oh, is that a statement, Mayor McDonough? Tyrant Mayor Shuts Down the Press!” The reporter pantomimed this headline, her hand up as if reading out those very words. She glanced over at Rebecca and shrugged, gesturing to her. “Well, why don’t we ask the newcomer? Do you support the news? Because the mayor’s about to throw free speech in the dumpster.”

The three other people faced Rebecca, expectant. “I always believed in freedom of the press,” she offered, holding out her hands with a smile.

The mayor cleared his throat at her words, reaching up to straighten his suit. “Oh, I...see. Don’t listen to her, no. No. You look like Diamond City material. This city is a fine place to visit, spend your money, settle down. Don’t let muckrakers like this tell you otherwise.”

“Well, this has hardly been a friendly introduction.” Rebecca kept her tone even, but her eyes met his without flinching. “I’ll make my own judgement about this place.” She was not sure what, exactly, was going on between these two people, but she knew that she did not like this man. She had seen many similar men in her years as a lawyer. Heard many of the same lines.

“See? Here’s someone who won’t fall for your lies, McDonough. It’s time for the truth. What’s really going on here? What are you doing about all the kidnappings by the Institute?”

Kidnappings? Rebecca stared at the reporter, wondering what she meant.

“Piper, I have had enough out of you. From now on, consider you and that sister of yours on notice!” The mayor then turned heel and stormed away, heading into the city proper. 

“Keep talking McDonough, it’s all you’re ever good for!” Piper called after him, waving a hand as if shooing him away. “So,” she drawled, turning to face Rebecca again. “How was that for a big, Diamond City welcome?”

“The mayor’s about as cheerful as always,” Anna replied, while Rebecca remained silent. 

“Of course. I had this article, and apparently he’s not to fond of what I had to say. Thank’s, by the way. Hey, stop by my office later,” Piper said to Rebecca, tilting her head towards the city. “I have an idea for a story that you’d be perfect for. See you.”

When she was gone, Rebecca turned to Anna. “Is this normal?”

Her friend laughed softly. “As normal as the sun rising each morning. Piper’s got a good heart, and an eye for the truth, but is more stubborn than you can imagine. She writes Publick Occurrences, the city newspaper. Another old friend.”

“Oh. Well, let’s go inside, then?”

Anna nodded and waved a hand for Rebecca to go inside first.

 

At the top of the narrow flight of stone stairs, the vault dweller looked down upon a bustling settlement. It occupied the entire stadium, from the stands where people used to sit, to the floor where the game was played. Metal shacks leaned up against one another in haphazard groups, neon lights advertising one business or another. Paths made from planks of plywood or sheets of metal were set into the ground for easy walking. And in the very center was a busy marketplace, ringed around a towering stack that several people sat around.

“Noisy. Corrupt. Smelly. Just like any other large settlement, I’d wager. But, once you get past that, it’s not a bad place to live. The people here range from the snobs in the upper stands, to the corrupt guards and racist citizens, to the average, good-natured friend. In time, you’ll figure out who is who.” Anna said this from behind Rebecca, her voice low. “Did you need to stop to get something to eat?”

“Oh. Yeah, actually. That would be great.” The vault dweller clutched her stomach and realized that it was empty. “But I don’t have any money.”

The scavver waved a hand idly. “Don’t worry about it. You’re new, and a friend. I’ll get you some dinner.”

She did just that, stopping by the shop in the center of the marketplace. She spoke briefly with the chef, who Rebecca noted with shock was a robot, before returning with two bowls of something steaming. “Here, eat up. Best food in Diamond City.”

“Is it more rad-something?”

“Not this time. Takahashi makes some killer noodles. No rads in sight.”

Smiling in amusement, Rebecca ate. The food was delicious and hot and before she knew it, she was scraping the bottom of the bowl. She insisted on taking their dishes back up, and walked to the counter with both empty bowls. The robot acknowledged her and spoke, but she did not understand what he had said. “Thank you,” she replied then, settling with being polite.

When he repeated the same phrase, she blinked in confusion. She opened her mouth to repeat herself, but a man at the counter shook his head. “Don’t bother,” he said with a grin. “He only says the same shit. Don’t worry, he’ll get them.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Rebecca turned and made her way to where Anna was seated. The scavver was leaning back against the shack behind her, Dogmeat curled up at her feet. The hound was faring better, she noticed. A second stimpak, one that Anna had administered not long after they had fought the super mutant, had done wonders for healing his injuries. 

Anna opened her eyes at her approach, her gaze traveling to the noodle stand and back again. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Rebecca replied with a small grin. 

“I get that a lot. This way.”

 

They followed the pink signs to the detective agency. Anna walked without noticing them, while Rebecca couldn’t help but peer at them. The agency’s logo was a heart, made from a twisted tube of neon. Privately, she thought that the signs were a bit garish, but was thankful for them nonetheless. They were impossible to miss.

She stood beside Anna as the scavver knocked on the heavy door before opening it wide and leading the way inside. “Hello? Guys, it’s me.” She called out to announce her presence, tipping her head to the side as if in confusion.

Rebecca stepped in behind her, taking in the small apartment. It was cozy and warm (if a bit cramped, she thought), full of several filing cabinets and three heavy desks. A single light hung from the ceiling, casting a bright and welcoming glow over the center of the space. 

A woman stood at the back, facing away from them as she dug through an old cardboard box. “I told you your luck would run out someday,” she muttered as she worked, her agile fingers flipping through paperwork. “His ties,” she added, pulling one out and holding it in front of her “Oh, Nick.”

“Hello? Ellie?”

The woman stopped and turned around, eyes wide. “Anna! It’s been so long.” She was perhaps a few years younger than Anna appeared to be, with carefully styled dark hair. Her outfit looked comfortable, a pink skirt and white tunic covered by a warm-looking leather jacket.

“Good to see you too.” The two women hugged unabashedly. “Now, I brought a friend with me. This is Rebecca,” the scavver gestured for the other woman to step forward. “Rebecca, this is Ellie Perkins. Go ahead and tell her about your son.”

When Rebecca stepped up, Ellie frowned. “If you’re here to talk business, I’m afraid you’re too late. We’re closed.”

“Oh,” the vault dweller replied. “I can come back at a later time.”

“No! I’m sorry. I mean, the agency is closed for good. We can’t run without a detective, and the detective’s gone missing.” Ellie seemed to slump, as if under a great burden. Her face was downcast, grief plain to see.

“What?” Anna demanded, approaching Ellie. “Ellie, what happened? Where did Nick go?” Here she softened, reaching out to place a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. They shared a look, one that spoke of many years, before Ellie replied.

“He went out on a case, what else? Someone hired him to track down Skinny Malone and he did. All the way to Park Street Station. I told him that he was walking right into a trap, but he just smiled and left, just he always does.” Ellie scrubbed one hand across her face, wary. “That was two weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. I’m beginning to worry.”

“Two weeks,” Anna breathed. “That’s a long time, even when he’s chasing a case like this. And after a known thug, too.”

Rebecca caught the worry in the woman’s voice and raised an eyebrow. “We should go after him. I need his help, and it looks like he needs ours.”

“If you would like to find him, you’re free to do so. Park Street Station, out in Boston Common. That’s the last I heard,” Ellie added, sinking down onto the desk behind her. “You’ll know him, he always wears that trenchcoat and hat. He’s hard to miss.”

“We’ll find him,” Anna promised, nodding. “You up for some more traveling?”

Rebecca shrugged. “I walked here knowing that the trail wouldn’t end. Let’s go.”

“Good luck, both of you. I’ll watch Dogmeat for you, he looks pretty tired.” When Anna nodded in thanks, she continued, “Skinny Malone’s not to be messed with, so watch your backs.” Ellie squeezed both of theirs arms and they left, back into the noise of the city.

“So, the detective goes and gets himself captured. Ironic, don’t you think?” Rebecca checked the ammunition in the pocket on her belt. She had plenty of the 10mm still, and a clip of the others, rounds Anna labeled as .45. 

Anna glanced over at her, offering her a weak smile. “Nick’s stubborn. He’ll do what he has to for a client. Likely he tracked his lead to the station and snarked his way into trouble. I just hope he’s alright.”

“I’m sure he is,” Rebecca replied, nodding. “Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The detective...gone missing? Check back in next week to see the duo take on Malone's crew and rescue our favorite synth detective.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, feel free to let me know if you find any mistakes! Have a great day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca finally gets a chance to sit down and clear her head. After venturing into another vault and facing down the criminal kingpin named Skinny Malone, she and her new friend manage to free the detective and she gets her story out. When she learns the identity of the man she saw in Vault 111, she vows to track him down and get answers.

    “Careful. Boston Common is not exactly the most welcome place in the city.”

    Rebecca glanced around at Anna’s words, noting the unnatural quiet in the air. It seemed too quiet, and she did not want to know why. “Where’s the entrance to this subway station?” she asked. “I don’t want to be out here any more than you.”

    “There.” Anna’s voice was just as quiet as she pointed to a marble building across the small park they stood near. “I believe that is what we want. Mind you, I’m not too good direction-wise in the city. All these buildings throw me for a loop.”

    The vault dweller scoffed at this, doubting those words. Anna seemed to know where most major landmarks were. “Hey, what’s this?” she asked, catching sight of a bright red line painted onto the concrete. “Where in the world does that go?”

    “I never followed it myself. It’s been there for a while. Looks to lead into trouble, from what I’ve seen, so I’ve always avoided it.” Anna raised an eyebrow as Rebecca stepped closer to the fountain, moving slowly as she hoped not to draw attention to herself.

    “It says something about a trail of freedom. Well, this is Boston after all. But I wonder what it means now.” She ran both hands down her face and thought for a moment. “Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t matter right now. You said that building? At the scavver’s nod, she continued.

    They moved around the park, agreeing without words that walking through it sounded like a poor choice. There were signs that spoke of a danger in that shallow pond, and neither wanted to find out what they meant.

    “So, I don’t know what’s we’ll find down there. I know little of Malone, but I know he’s a criminal kingpin of sorts. He has a bunch of cronies, and we don’t want to start a huge gunfight.” Anna had pulled her rifle from her back and held it ready. “Let’s just hope we can do this as cleanly as possible, sound good?”

    They descended into the shadowy interior of the subway station, pausing to let their eyes adjust. It was damp, water seeping through the walls and an overall wetness to the air. It smelled strongly of tobacco and smoke, body odor and booze.

    “Lovely place,” Rebecca quipped lightly. “Though I’d rather stay on the surface.”

    “Oh, you mean you wouldn’t like to live down here and grow some moss?”

    They continued down the steps until they came closer to the first doorway. They heard voices and stopped to listen in. “What the hell’s Malone doing? Has he lost his mind? He takes in that woman, for god’s knows what reason, and now that detective got caught sniffing around HQ. I would have killed him, but Malone’s gone soft. Too soft, I think, all because of that girl.”

    “Shut up. Don’t let her hear you saying that shit. She’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out.”

Anna held out her arm to stop Rebecca, who had wandered closer in an effort to hear, putting a finger to her lips. “Triggermen, it seems. Not surprising.” She flicked the safety off on her rifle and shifted, lining up the shot. “Similar to Gunners,” she spoke before she put her eye to the sights and squeezed off a single round.

    The projectile hit the man in the arm and he hissed in pain. It burned him and he had little time to speak before a second took him in his chest and he went down. Before the other man could react, she shot him as well. “I wish there was another way. Though it may not look like it, I’m not fond of straight up violence. But, if we are seen, we’ll be shot.”

    “Makes sense. I don’t think anyone will blame you,” Rebecca spoke, walking beside her as they continued down into the station.

    Soon they reached the station proper. Subway trains were scattered throughout the area, having crashed during the bombs or soon after. Signs of life were everywhere as well, from empty beer bottles and packs of cigarettes, to plates of half-eaten food and unmade beds made from old mattresses and blankets.

    The so-called Triggermen were everywhere. It took a lot of effort to move around them. Most, either Anna or Rebecca took out. But a few they were able to sneak around.

    “I take it back. You’ll make a fine spy. You move like the shadows. And I thought I knew how to get around tights spots.” Anna praised her as they evaded another pair of hostiles. “Though, I don’t know what employer wants that, these days.”

    “You find one, let me know. All things considered, I’ll end up needing a job.”

    Their laughter died off as they came to another open area. In the distance the familiar sight of a vault door stood against the rocky wall. “What in the world?” Rebecca asked. “Why would they put a vault down here?”

    “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ll bet you that is where we need to be, though. You still know how to open those? Good. Let’s get rid of these guys and open it up.”

    A brief firefight ensued, between them and three of the Triggermen. Rebecca grimaced as one of her shots struck a man in his throat and he collapsed, choking on the red that seeped between his fingers. Another went down as Anna’s shots rained down on him.

    The third dove behind a piece of sheet metal. “I need back up! We got some intruders!” When no one replied to his calls for help, he swore. “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t need to be here. Malone said not to let anyone inside.”

    “He got something to hide?” Anna taunted. “Cause the way I see it, he’s got crimes to answer for. First of which, imprisoning a friend of mine.”

    “You don’t know shit!” The man stood and fired at them, but Anna was quicker and struck him in the stomach. He screamed and dissolved into a steaming pile of bright green material. It steamed in the cold underground air. Anna looked away, frowning.

    “Hold on, I’ll take care of the door. Just give me a moment.” Rebecca climbed up the familiar metal stairs and pulled the cord that would connect her Pip-Boy to the door’s terminal. Plugging it in, she waited until there was a green light before unplugging it and slamming her palm down the giant red button next to the connection. “That should do it. Okay.”

    Her voice had gone soft as she looked up. Fear skittered in her stomach as she took in the great steel door, painted with bright yellow numbers. Vault 114. That wasn’t far off that one she had spent over 200 years in. She had just escaped the one, only to enter another…

    “Hey.”

    Rebecca shook herself at the sound of Anna’s concerned voice. “Sorry. I just...just remembered the vault I came from. I need a minute.” She sat down abruptly on the metal walkway, her legs having given out on her. Tears, one that she had thought dried up, came forth of their own accord.

    “I’m sorry. This must be hard. Take your time.” Anna moved away to give her some space, peering up into the bright light that illuminated the vault’s doorway. She heard voices then, confused and irritated as they approached.

    “Why is that damned door opening? I told them to keep it shut! Damn it, when I get up there, someone’s goin’ to pay.”

    Anna moved quickly, ducking around the door’s frame and glancing around it. Another Triggerman came into view, storming towards her with a submachine gun held confidently in his hands. Glancing back to see that her friend was out of view, she took aim at the man’s hands and squeezed the trigger. The shot struck true, burning his hands and causing him to drop the gun. He jumped back in surprise, nursing his wounded digits as he looked up to see her.

    “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, backing away.

    Anna stalked forward, intent on silencing this man before he alerted anyone else in the area. She pulled the trigger again, one shot catching his thigh and causing him to buckle to the ground, the other catching him in mid fall. He was dead before he hit the steel floor.

    Sighing, Anna looked around to see that no one else had followed him. Relieved, she wandered the area briefly, both out of a habit for scouting, and to give Rebecca some time alone.

    The vault dweller climbed through the doorway a few minutes later, her eyes reddish. She cleared her throat and Anna looked up from the paperwork she was looking through. “I’m okay now. Let’s go.”

    Nodding in understanding, the scavver led the way deeper into the vault.

 

    The passed several more Triggermen, finding themselves forced to kill most in order to get past. Rebecca frowned when she realized that she was out of .45 rounds and switched back to her pistol, following the scavver’s lead and hooking her rifle on her back. She idly reloaded the pistol as they stood on the upper walkway of a large, open room.

    “Looks to be a cafeteria. Doesn’t seem to be what they’re using it for, though. Come on, let’s go up this way.” Anna waved a hand and they climbed up another staircase, peering over it to see a man standing before a circular window.

    He leaned close to the glass and laughed, gesturing mockingly. “Hey, Valentine, how you doin’ in there? You need anything? Some food? How about a glass of water, eh?”

    At the name, Anna narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on her rifle.

    “Well, it seems we found our quarry,” Rebecca offered. “Now to get past this guy.”

    Another voice responded to the man’s taunts. It was harsh and just as mocking. “Yeah, keep talking, meathead! It’ll just give Skinny Malone more time to decide how he’s going to get rid of you.”

    “Charming, as always,” Anna spoke quietly, her voice wry. “Hold on, don’t move yet. Let’s see how this pans out. That door is locked by a terminal, and I’m no good at working with those.”

    Rebecca nodded and looked back at the man, tuning back into the exchange. “...yeah? What do you know? I’m his right-hand guy. You’re just making shit up to scare me.”

    “Really?” came the response, a bit exasperated. “‘Cause I saw him write your name down in that little black book of his. Wrote all about you. ‘Lousy cheating card-shark,’ I think were his exact words. Then he struck your name through three times.”

    The Triggerman hesitated at this, his face paling. “He did what? The little black book? Three times?” He rubbed the back of his neck and backed away, suddenly afraid. “God, I better go. I gotta smooth his over, fast.”

    He ran away from the window, hurrying to where the two women crouched. When he saw them, his face twisted from fear to anger. “What the fuck?” he demanded. “And just you are you? What’s going on here?”

    “Prison breakout, of course.” Anna responded, holding out one hand in a shrug. “You going to let us do this peacefully, or what?”

    “No, dammit!” The man pulled out his submachine gun and loaded it with deft hands. “Dino’s not gonna let you get past him. The detective stays here.”

    “Oh,” the scavver tsked under her breath. “Well, that’s a dealbreaker my friend. Let’s go, then.” She rose up to one knee, taking careful aim. But before she could fire, Dino rushed forward in a ploy to confuse them. Swearing, she ducked to avoid his fist. She twisted as she did so, hooking one ankle around his leg and pulling him off his feet.

    Rebecca took the chance and shot, two bullets burying themselves in his stomach. He let out a howl of pain and raised his gun, but both women had jumped away as he did so. Bullets peppered the walls, ricocheting around them. “Why?” the vault dweller demanded, a little heatedly. She was just so tired of people shooting at them. “Dammit, all we want is into that room.”

    But they got what they wanted in the end, as Dino was unable to keep fighting. He stared up at them in fury as he lay there, clutching his wound as blood pooled from it. In moments he was dead, red trickling down to the floor.

    Anna glanced over at Rebecca in surprise, sensing the other woman’s anger. “Here,” she spoke, instead of approaching that emotion. She, too, knew that frustration. “Looks like he’s got the password on him. Why don’t you unlock that terminal?”

    Rebecca readily agreed, taking the slip of paper and approaching the window. Inside, it was dark, but she could see the silhouette of a man standing in the center of the room. He walked forward to peer at her and she blinked at the sight of his vivid yellow eyes.

    “I don’t know who you are, but we have about three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains isn’t coming back,” he spoke, frowning. He nodded to the side, indicating the terminal on the wall. “Get this door open!”

    His voice was harried, but she reasoned that several weeks locked in one room would do that to a man. She rushed over to the terminal and pressed a button experimentally to see the screen flash on. It demanded a passcode, and she looked down at the paper in her hands. Rolling her eyes at the simplicity, she typed it in. Another screen loaded and she chose the command to open the door.

    To her left, the hydraulics on the door hissed and released. Cold air from inside the room enveloped her and she shivered, pulling away from the screen and looking back to see Anna approaching.

    “Nice work,” she praised. “I never could figure out how to hack the damned things.” Offering a smile, she turned and entered the room. “You go off on a case this dangerous, and you don’t come find me first? I thought we were partners, Valentine.”

    “Right. Next time, I’ll leave the client waiting while I go get you.”

    “Well, you’re doing a hell of a lot to help the client now. And,” Anna added, holding up a hand. “You’ve worried half the city.”

    “It was urgent,” the man repeated evenly. “I couldn’t waste time. And don’t give me that, doll. I don’t think half the city is worried about me. I don’t think half cares.”

    “Bullshit.” The scavver’s voice was harsh, but there was a note of something else in it. She stopped and looked away, lowering her rifle and clasping her free hand over the opposite arm. “Dammit, Nick. They could have killed you.”

    Rebecca hesitated at the threshold of the room, awkwardly watching the two argue. She flicked the safety on to her pistol and hooked it through the loop on her belt, stalling the moment when she would announce herself.

    “Sure they could’ve, but the detective’s life isn’t an easy one. You know that. Look, I got hired to find someone’s daughter, only for the case to lead me to an old friend. I also learn that he’s got a whole bunch of his cronies down here. Malone’s got himself a new flame and she’s got a mean streak. Any guess who she is?” The man sighed and dug in a pocket for something. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it carefully. Rebecca could see thin, almost skeletal, fingers illuminated by the tiny flame.

Taking a long drag, the man regarded Anna. She stared back with equal stubbornness. “The only reason I’m in here, and not dead, is that Skinny Malone decided to spare me for old time’s sake,” he continued, his gaze flickering away. He caught sight of Rebecca and raised his head, straightening as he gestured to her. “Come on in. I gotta love the reverse ‘Damsel in Distress’ scenario. But why would you risk your life for an old private eye?”

    Rebecca stepped forward and got a good look at the detective. His outfit, just like Ellie had said, was obvious. He wore a long tan trench coat and the telltale hat, but that was where her understanding stopped. Like before, she blinked in surprise at his yellow eyes, ones that looked back at her unflinchingly. And his face was unlike anything she had ever seen.

    It was almost as if he had been wounded, but the wires and machinery visible at his jawline and throat rendered her speechless. He was a robot.

    “I...I need help,” she managed after a few moments. “My baby was kidnapped, but it’s complicated. I don’t know who took him, or...where they went. Can you help me?”

    Nick Valentine frowned at this. “A missing child, huh? Damn. Yeah, I can help you. But now is not the time or place. Let’s get out of here, and we can do a proper interview in my office.” He seemed to shake his head as he inhaled deeply from his cigarette. Smoke curled around his jaw, tendrils escaping through the gaps in his skin. He dropped it and extinguished it with one foot, before walking towards the door. “Come on, I know the way out of here.”

    The two women exchanged a look. Anna, her face still pale with worry, offered a wan smile. “He’s right. We have to get out of here.”

    Rebecca took this for encouragement and followed the detective as he walked to the stairs. He turned and looked over at her, smiling for the first time.

    “Thanks for getting me out of there, by the way. I know this wasn’t the most pleasant introduction. Things can get hairy on a case like this.” His gaze shifted over her shoulder as Anna joined them. His face seemed to soften slightly before he turned around and continued to lead the way.

    “So, where’s Malone now?” Rebecca asked as they maneuvered the hallways of the vault. She chose not to look at them, for fear of collapsing like before, and instead fixed her gaze on his back.

    “Oh, he’s still here alright. I plan on speaking to him before I go.”

    “Right.” The vault dweller spoke and readied her pistol in case of more Triggermen. They were headed in another direction, away from the vault entrance. Deeper into the vault itself. She closed her eyes as they traveled, focusing on keeping her breathing even.

    “Keep your guard up,” Anna spoke up. “We don’t know how many more of these guys there is. And where they are.”

    Rebecca was not looking forward to more fighting, but resigned herself to the reality. This was the world now. And this, she reminded herself, was the the heart of a gang’s hideout. As they walked, she asked herself how she got here. But, as she retraced her steps since coming out of the vault, she realized that she wouldn’t change it.

    “Hold on, let me see if I can get this door open,” Nick spoke up, raising a hand. Rebecca noted that it was not the hand that she had seen before. This one was covered in a skin-like material, while the other was bare metal.

He approached the closed door in question, bending down to inspect the locking mechanism. “Door seems to be on the fritz. Just give me a moment.” Making quick work of the mechanism, he chuckled and glanced at the women over his shoulder. “Much easier when the lock isn’t on the other side,” he commented lightly.

    Anna snorted a laugh. “I bet.” She quieted as the group entered another open area, pulling her rifle into position again. “Looks like trouble,” she added, gesturing to the men standing about at the far side of the room.

    “Lots of trouble,” Nick murmured in agreement. “How do you want to play this?”

    “Can we even get around them?” Rebecca asked, looked over at the other two. “They’re right in front of the door.”

    Anna considered this, biting her lip. “Divert them. Give them a reason to walk away from the door? Or we can try out our charisma.”

    “Let me try,” Rebecca replied at the second option. Nick looked over in concern, gaze flickering over her. “I used to be a lawyer. I’m used to weaseling stuff out of people. Maybe I can talk them out of it.”

    “Alright, but we’ll shoot at the first sign of trouble,” Anna said. She reached out and rested a hand on the vault dweller’s shoulder. “And you get away before they can get you. This isn’t worth it.”

    “Anna’s right,” the detective added. “They raise their guns, you get behind something.”

    Rebecca stood and approached the four men, having left her pistol at her hip. As she drew closer, she saw cigars hanging out of the mouths of two of them, ands cards in the hands of each. They looked up from their game at her approach, one reaching for his gun.

    “Hey now,” she soothed, holding out a hand. She pitched her voice into a familiar cadence from her time in the courts. “We’re here to see Skinny Malone. We don’t want any trouble.”

    “Any trouble?” the one man echoed, shocked. “And who the hell are you?”

    “I’m an old friend of his,” she lied carefully. “I hear he’s got himself into trouble and want to see if I can help him. He needs me.”   

    The men started at her in surprise. “I’ve never heard of you before. Malone’s never mentioned you. And,” he added as he peered around her. “I don’t think you’re alone. We heard all about what happened up there by the overseer’s office. Sorry, sweetheart, you ain’t fooling us.”

    He pulled his gun and smiled at her, slow and slick. “You talk a lot of pretty words, but we were waitin’ for you three right here. Your rescue mission ends here.”

    “Get down!” Anna yelled and raised her rifle. She leaned around the doorway and put her eye to the sights, squinting as she rushed to defend the vault dweller. “God dammit! Why do we always have to fight?”

    A green ball of plasma hit the speaker and he screeched, stumbling backward. “You’ll pay for that, bitch!” he roared, raising his gun and firing towards the doorway as he fell   backward.

    Anna ducked back out of range. Beside her, Nick shifted and pulled out his own weapon, a small revolver. Waiting until the volley of bullets paused, he leaned around the  doorframe and fired, striking a second man in the head. “It was worth a shot,” he spoke to her as he leaned against the wall, out of sight. “She certainly has a good heart.”

    “Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed,” Anna replied with a grin. She then moved out from the door, finding another position behind a pillar in the room. She could see Rebecca not far from her, doing the same. “You okay? Good. Now let’s kick some ass.”

    Two Triggermen still fired at them, having crouched behind a flipped table. The third, the one Anna had struck, had fallen and lay not far off. His shirt was burned, revealing ugly red flesh.

    Rebecca managed a few lucky shots as one of the men peered over the makeshift barricade. One bullet grazed his cheek and the other buried itself in his left eye. Howling, he went down and did not rise. She swallowed her nausea and ducked down to reload.

    “Ah! Dammit!”

    The vault dweller looked up at the pained cry to see Anna lean her back against the pillar she stood behind, sliding down to land on her behind. She nursed her shoulder with white fingers, her face screwed with pain.

    “Go to hell!” the last Triggerman swore. “It’s about time someone put you down.”

    He went to speak again, but three bullets caught him in square in the chest. Rebecca watched as he collapsed against the table, choking, before sliding to the floor. Sighing with relief that all of the enemies were dead, she hurried over to Anna. Nick had already worked his way over and crouched beside her.

    “That’s a nasty one. Well, the good news is it’ll leave a pretty nice scar.”

   “Shut it, Valentine,” Anna hissed and resolutely dug in her pack for a supplies. “Help me with the bullet, will you?”

    The detective wasted no time and, taking the small knife she passed him, cut away some of the fabric covering the wound. He inspected it, whistling softly. “He got you good, doll. Hold on, I can get the bullet out with this.”

    Anna gritted her teeth as he used the tip of the knife to carefully work the bullet to the surface. The fingers of one hand tightened, fisting against her jeans. “Damn, that hurts. Been a while since I’ve been shot,” she breathed. When the bullet was out, she looked down at it numbly. “Well there’s that. Let’s hope that Skinny himself doesn’t want to fight, huh?”

    Nick hummed in agreement, fishing out a stimpak from her bag. He injected it into her arm, a few inches away from the bullet wound. On her other side, Rebecca pulled gauze out of her own bag, handing it over when he held out a hand.

    A few minutes passed before Anna pulled herself to a standing position. Rebecca stepped forward and let the scavver lean on her, eyeing the wound with concern. She remembered the feeling of the dog bite she had suffered on her first day out of the vault, and what relief the stimpak brought. Hopefully, by now the effects would be kicking in.

    The group continued, their progress slower than before. Anna thanked the vault dweller quietly as they walked in sync, winking with a bit of her old humor. “Don’t let anyone lie to you,” she said with a chuckle. “Gunshots fucking hurt.”

    Eventually they ended up before one last door. Nick paused before it, looking down at the gun in his hands. “This is it,” he spoke. “Malone’s name is...ironic, but don’t let that fool ya. He’s a tough guy. Don’t let your guard down.”

    “Got it.” Rebecca felt the scavver shift away to support her own weight. She glanced over and received an encouraging smile. “Let’s go.”

    “Well alright.” The detective stooped to manipulate the lock on this door, his face grim. It opened with a hiss, the metal contraption raising up to disappear into the top of the frame. The three crossed the threshold and found themselves staring straight at the kingpin himself.

 

    “This is him?”

    The words came from the woman standing to Malone’s left. She was angry, her arms cradling a shotgun as she stared at the trio. She stepped forward, heels clicking on the vault’s steel floor. “The detective my father sent to find me? Well, I’m not going back so you can just forget it! And who are they?”

    Beside her, Malone looked flustered. The kingpin wore a tuxedo buttoned over his stomach, and a prewar hat to match. He sure looked the part of a criminal mob boss, Rebecca thought. His eyes, narrowed with irritation, were fixed on Nick. “Just what the hell are you doing, Nicky? This is my place. I didn’t ask you to come snooping around.”

    At his words the Triggermen standing behind him shifted, as if readying themselves for a fight. Anna did the same, keeping a close hold on her plasma rifle, while Nick stared evenly at Malone, his face grim. Rebecca closed her eyes briefly, having counted more Triggermen than she wanted to fight. Which, if she was honest, was none.

    “I wouldn’t be here if is wasn’t for your two-timin’ dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often.” Nick’s voice was tired. After being locked up for so long, it was obvious that all he wanted to do was go home.

    Darla rolled her eyes. “Poor Valentine. You upset because you got beat up by a girl?” She flexed her fingers, drawing attention to the weapon she carried. Rebecca hoped that it wasn’t that same weapon that she had used on the detective. “They’re probably here to rub us all out! I say we kill them!” The young woman’s voice was shrill as she said this, her face betraying her eagerness.

    “No, Darla. Skinny Malone’s got this under control,” Malone snapped. “Well, Nick?”

    Rebecca stepped forward before he could answer. “Please, let’s calm down. Look, Darla, is it? Hello, Darla, I’m Rebecca.” She offered the woman a smile, and Darla backed away looking confused. “I think this whole situation is getting out of hand. Your father is just worried about you. He wants to make sure you’re okay, is all. Go home, Darla. You don’t need to be caught up in any of this. Go home to your family and leave this all behind.”

    Darla lowered her shotgun, turning her face away so that her reddish hair curtained her features. “I guess you’re right. I just wanted to get out of the house, you know. My father’s so overbearing. But fine, I’ll...I’ll go home.”

    “Good,” Rebecca said, the smile widening. “Now, about - “

    “What?” Malone interrupted her, eyes pinning her to the spot. He was angrier than before, and when he swung to face Nick, he about spat his words. “What the hell is this shit, Nicky? First you kill most of my men, and now you’re stealing my girl?”

    Nick spread out his hands in a peacemaking gesture. “My friend here just did you a favor. You don’t want another fight. Too many in this room would die. And you always did have a bad taste in women.” His gaze flickered over to Darla who, though still high-strung and angry, was no longer pointing the gun at them.  “Now, is this the end of it?”

    “No more blood has to be spilled,” Rebecca reminded them.

    Skinny Malone stared down the detective for several heartbeats, ones that many people in the room feared he would start shooting, until he relented. “Fine,” he bit out. “Just because of old times, Nicky.”

   “Boss, what are you doing?”

   “Yeah, c’mon boss, what?”

    “Can it! Skinny Malone is the boss here, and what he says goes!” His voice had gotten louder as he turned to his men. “I say they leave, and so they will! I catch any of you shooting, you’re dead. Get the hell out of here, Nick, before I change my mind.”

    The trio wasted no time in leaving the room, passing by them and climbing several sets of stairs that led outside. Rebecca was grateful that the conversation had gone the way it did. There had been no gunshots, no killing. And, she thought as she glanced over at Nick, the case was closed. Darla, the apparent rebel who decided to take it up with a gang just for kicks, would be going home.

    “That went remarkably well,” Anna commented as they approached a rusted ladder that led to the surface. “You really do have a silver tongue. And here I was worried we wouldn’t get out of there.”

   “I didn’t think anyone there needed to be shot,” Rebecca said. “It just seemed to me like a misunderstanding. Darla may have seemed spoiled and mean, but I just think she’s confused. Lashing out, maybe.”

   “I would say that someone running away from home to join a gang is confused, sure. But it all turned out okay in the end. Thanks for stepping in,” Nick Valentine said to her, smiling. “Sometimes having history with someone only makes it more complicated. Come on, I’m sure you’re ready for that interview.”

   He gestured to the ladder and climbed out first, his shoes finding purchase on the slippery bars. Anna nodded for Rebecca to go, before bringing up the rear.

   The three regrouped on the surface, finding themselves in an alley lit by a patch of glowing mushrooms. Rebecca drew away instinctively, eyeing the large puddle with some trepidation. Anna caught her look and shook her head, saying that the radiation was negligible and would only affect her if she touched it.

   “The great Commonwealth sky. I never thought something so naturally ominous would be so comforting.” Nick was looking up at the sky, which after their time in the vault, was darkening with evening. The two women followed his gaze, Rebecca smiling at the sight of a few determined stars shining down through the smog.

   Anna looked down and approached the detective, her relief at escaping the vault mixed with discomfort. “Nick,” she started and waited until she had his attention. “I’m sorry I go so upset with you earlier. It...wasn’t fair of me. This is your job, and I get it. No reason to speak the way I did.”

   The detective waved her words away, his smile affectionate. “No need for that. I know you were worried. Hell, I’d have been worried sick, if it were me. It was risky of me to do this. And if it hadn’t been for you two, I may not have got out of there.”

   “In any case, I’m just glad you’re alright.” The scavver met his gaze before looking away down the alley. “Let’s get back to the agency. It’s getting dark, and that’s never good around here.”

 

   Ellie looked up in surprise when the three of them filed into the detective agency. At the sight of Nick, she gasped and threw herself at him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He chuckled at this, sheepishly reassuring her that he was fine, really, thank you.

   “Here,” the young woman said, pulling out a small leather bag. “I know that money wasn’t on the table when you left, but you deserve something. Take this.”

   Rebecca eyed the bag Ellie held out, blinking stupidly. “Thanks,” she replied, settling on good manners. Ellie would not have offered it if she couldn’t afford too. And refusing  would have been rude. She pocketed the bag, feeling the slight weight of the currency, which Anna had explained were bottlecaps, against her hip.

   “Alight,” Nick spoke up in the momentary silence. He sat behind the desk facing the door, straightening his coat with a tug.“Let’s get this interview underway. Go ahead and take a seat when you’re ready.”

   Rebecca glanced back at Anna, who nodded encouragingly. She swallowed and, pushing aside her sudden shyness, sat in the chair the detective had indicated. It was a plush off-white armchair, and she settled into its comfort before looking across the desk.

   Just behind it, Ellie stood and, after fetching a pen and a pad of paper, was ready to take notes. Her face was kind and Rebecca took heart in this. By the door, Anna leaned against the wall with her hands folded behind her back.

   “Go ahead and tell me everything you know. Any detail you can think of.” Nick leaned over the desk, lacing his fingers together. He was expectant, regarding her with a practiced calmness as he waited for her to speak.

   So she did. Hesitantly at first, her voice oddly loud in the silence. But as she narrated the story of that moment in the vault, where that scarred mercenary had stolen her baby, she gathered her nerves. She spoke of the freezing pods, and at her nod of permission, Anna added that they were probably cryogenic in nature. How they all had been forced into them the day the bombs fell.

   As Ellie wrote in the notepad, pen flying as she took quick notes, Nick spoke. “Cryo sleep. I’m not sure about the reason for that, but I assume that’s a question for Vault-Tec. As for leaving you behind, that means they - who ever this is - wants you alive.” Nick tilted his head to the side as he thought, frowning deeply. “Is there anything else you remember?”

   She spoke of Warren, pausing in grief when she revealed that he had been shot. Ellie looked up from her notes and said, “You don’t have to continue. We understand.” The three waited patiently as she composed herself, tears once again trailing down her cheeks. The wound still hurt, the loss of her best friend aching somewhere deep in her chest.

   When she looked up again, she continued by talking about her son. “Just a baby,” she said weakly. “Why would they take a baby?”

   The detective sighed. “That settles it. This was a specialized operation, not just a case of looters. Not too many people out here would be able to provide that level of care. A baby needs a lot of it. Whoever did this knew what they were after. Anything else? Do you remember anything about the kidnappers themselves?”

   And lastly, she spoke of the people who had done it. “They all wore plastic suits of some kind, with masks and gloves. Like they didn’t want to get contaminated. But the one who shot Warren wasn’t. He was bald and carried a pistol. Scarred.”

   “Wait.” Nick leaned back in his chair. Ellie had stopped writing and stared at Rebecca with wide eyes. Anna, even, had grown eerily still. “You didn’t happen to catch the name Kellogg, did you?”

   “I don’t know. Maybe? I didn’t really listen for that. I was trying to get out. I wanted out.” Rebecca folded her arms over her middle. This entire conversation was bringing back painful memories that were as fresh as they were agonizing.

   Nick sensed this and looked up at Ellie over his shoulder. “Ellie, what notes to we have about Kellogg?”

   “It matches,” she responded with a grim nod. “Bald. Scarred. And the personality matches too.”

   “I thought so. This is exactly the type of contract he excels in.” The detective caught Rebecca’s confused look and explained. “He’s a mercenary. We’ve been trying to pin him for a long time now. Always gets brought up in difficult, specialized, contracts. Often,” he added humorlessly. “In cases where someone goes missing.”

   “Missing person,” Anna spoke up and pushed away from the wall. “This isn’t the usual victim here, but we all know who is behind a lot of missing person cases of this stature.”

   Ellie paled slightly but nodded, and both women looked down at the detective. He seemed to catch their meaning and his face darkened. “You’re right. The Institute could be behind this. They certainly have the resources, and likely a motive. Damn.”

   “Who’s the Institute?” Rebecca asked. She did not like the expressions any of them wore, and the heavy, almost angry, silence scared her.

   “They’re the Commonwealth’s boogeyman. Known for snatching up people in the night and replacing them with synths. But no one knows where they are, or how to find them. Not even me, and they built me.” Nick said this last bit wryly, his eyes flickering up at her as if recalling their first meeting.

   “Built you?” the vault dweller ventured, her voice carefully even.

   “I’m a prototype. Look, there are different types of synths out there. There are the earlier models who look like what you’d call robots, and are dumb as rocks. And then there is the Gen 3 models, which are no different than anyone you’d see out on the street. Me, I’m somewhere in between. I don’t know why I exist. All I do know is that they discarded me a long time ago.”

   Rebecca blinked, recalling the guard just outside the city. He had mentioned something about people being afraid of a synth uprising. “So they replace people with these Gen 3 synths. Why?”

   “Who knows?” Anna replied this time. The scavver crossed her arms over her chest, rage snapping in her eyes. “People are afraid of it happening to them, or to those they know. Add that to a few bad experiences with Institute controlled ones, and you have a recipe for paranoia and outright violence.”

   “Oh,” Rebecca breathed. “But if they do that, why take my baby?”

   “That’s what we are going to find out. Didn’t Kellogg have a house in town a while back? And he had a boy with him, didn’t he?” Nick spoke up, as if trying to get the conversation back on track. He glanced up at Ellie, who nodded in answer to his question.

   “He had a boy? Was it my son?”

   “It could be,” the detective replied. “Don’t get too far ahead of me. We don’t know that yet. That said, why don’t we go and pay a visit? See if we can find anything in his old house. He may have left something behind we can use.”

   Right. The vault dweller followed the detective’s lead and stood up. She tried to get a handle on the hope that spread in her stomach like wildfire. There was no way of knowing if that boy was her son or not.

   “The guards don’t usually patrol that area much, but all the same. Be careful.” Ellie seemed to admonish the detective, her voice stern.

   “I always am,” Nick Valentine replied with a grin. He then nodded to Rebecca and opened the door into the nighttime din of the city.

   Anna stepped forward, placing a hand on the vault dweller’s shoulder. If she could feel the woman’s shaking, she did not say. “I’ll wait here for you guys. If you need me, give a holler.” she spoke aloud and sat without preamble on Nick’s desk. Dogmeat padded over to the desk and sat down, nosing her leg until she reached down to scratch his ear.

   Rebecca walked out into the city, looking back to see Nick latch the door firmly behind him. He gestured for her to follow before walking down the narrow alley, his steps sure. “I think we’re on the right track, and that you saw Kellogg that day. Nine to one odds, he’s our man. I didn’t want to say this in front of Ellie, but he’s dangerous. He’s a trained mercenary. The reason we haven’t been able to pin him down is because he has no enemies.” The man led the way through the city as he spoke, up a short flight of stairs and across a metal bridge over another section of houses. “He has no enemies because he kills them. The only one he has left is you.”

   He came to a stop before a small metal shack. “This is his old house. He skipped town not long ago, but he might have left something behind. You stand watch, I’ll see if I can pick this lock.”

   The woman waited, shifting her weight from foot to foot, as the detective tried to force the lock open. When he drew back in defeat, she frowned. “How are we getting in?”

   “If you want to give it a try, go ahead. Otherwise, you’re going to have to get the key from the mayor’s office. See that pathway there?” Here Nick pointed to a metal staircase that led to what looked to be a small lift of some kind. “Take that up to the offices. There you’ll find him. I don’t know how easy getting the key will be, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

   Rebecca eyed the lock with some trepidation. “I’ll have to get the key.”

   “Well alright. I’ll wait here and make sure any looker keeps moving.”

   The woman retraced their steps until she found herself in the main marketplace. Even though it was not full night, perhaps 8 o’ clock, the market was buzzing with activity. People clustered around the noodle stand, guards and civilians alike eating dinner. Vendors hawked their wares as she passed, determined to make a last few sales before they closed for the night.

   She pushed through the crowd, her mind whirling. Kellogg. Synths. The Institute. What was anyone talking about? These names and places were as alien to her as this entire world was. She clutched her stomach as she walked, nausea rolling behind her white fingers. She thought of what lay ahead and, through the haze of her confusion, she felt dread and despair.

   How was she going to manage this?

 

   The lift shook as it rose. She reached out to steady herself on the railing, eyes snagging on its bright yellow paint. It reminded her of the vault, the lift reminiscent of the great lurching hydraulics of the vault’s entrance. Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before turning around and waiting for the lift to come to a stop.

   She now faced the offices, just as Nick had told her. A lobby spread out before her, with cracked green tiles on its floor, and harsh white light above her head. At one end, in front of a heavy metal door, was a desk. What caught Rebecca’s attention was the two women found there, both of them arguing heatedly.

   “Tell me the truth. Why’s McDonough so afraid to talk, huh?”

   It was Piper, the investigative reporter from before. She leaned backward and crossed her arms over her chest. In the harsh light the mud streaked on her clothing was stark and differed so greatly from the other woman’s clean attire.

   “I’m sorry, but the mayor doesn’t have time for your nonsense,” the other woman said coldly. She folded her hands together and looked away pointedly. “He has to make time for his…” Her voice trailed off for a moment as she caught sight of Rebecca. “More important citizens.”

   “Oh is that it? How about I write an article about the mayor’s affair with a certain air-headed blonde! Would that change your mind?”

   Rebecca failed to contain her grin and took in the sight of the secretary’s elegant blonde hair. Like the rest of her, it was styled just so and represented her status in the city. She lived and worked up here and was able to afford the life she led. Piper, on the other hand, was like the rest of the city and lived down on the field. One woman lived a life of status and was unaware of (or didn’t care to see) the basic needs that the others sometimes went without. The other saw it everyday and was driven to do something about it.

   The argument was going nowhere fast, but Rebecca was curious to see just how long it would last. The two women were obviously old hands at the game.

   “Honey, you really should tone it down a bit. No man will ever want you if you keep screeching like that.”

   Those words were her breaking point and Rebecca found herself walking over to the desk before she could stop herself. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to hide her irritation. Watching two people hash out an old fight was one thing, but she would not stand idle in the face of such a petty (not to mention unoriginal) comment.

   “Look who’s back,” Piper said with a smug grin. She seemed unbothered by the secretary’s insult. “What are you here for?”

   Rebecca glanced at the door and back to the reporter. “I was told I needed to speak to the mayor. I need to ask something of him.”

   “In the mayor’s office...wanting to speak to the mayor. Of course.”

   “Isn’t that what you’re here for, Piper?” Rebecca countered with some amusement. Piper was a quick thinker and was unafraid to speak her mind. It was good, in a way. The world needed such dedicated people, especially when it was trying to rebuild. The vault dweller admired that.

   The reporter laughed genuinely. She waved a hand and stepped back, but not before shooting the secretary a glare. “Go ahead and keep your secrets for now. I’ll get them out of you eventually. I always do.” She chuckled before meandering over to the lift and disappearing from sight.

   Rebecca didn’t doubt the truth behind those words, but the playful tone caught her off guard. She blinked stupidly at the now-empty lift and felt the tips of her ears turning red. Suddenly, she remembered Piper’s request for an interview and promised herself she’d find the time.

   The secretary cleared her throat and this drew Rebecca’s attention back to the present.  “So, what can I do for you?” she asked, schooling her expression into a neutral consideration.

   “I really do need to speak to the mayor. Is he still available?” Rebecca asked politely.

   The secretary nodded. “The mayor keeps his office open to all citizens of Diamond City. One moment.” She clearly left out the part about her refusal to let the reporter in to his office. Standing up, she walked over to the door behind her and swung it open. She called out to the mayor, announcing Rebecca’s presence. “He will see you now. Go on in.”

   In another, much smaller, room, Rebecca met Mayor McDonough’s eyes. He seemed to recognize her and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you need?” he asked, keeping his tone polite.

   “I need a key to an abandoned house. Kellogg’s house, to be specific.”

   “Do you now? I’m sorry but I don’t just hand out the keys to different houses to anyone. I have to protect my citizen’s privacy. I can’t help you.” The major rested his hands on the lapels of his tailored jacket, eyeing Rebecca as she stood there.

   “Please, Mayor. I need to find my son. I think Kellogg may have taken him. I need in that house so I can track him and find my baby.” Rebecca schooled her voice into a sweeter and much more distressed tone. It was not hard, after all. She was desperate to find answers and this man stood in her way.

   The mayor looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. “Oh,” he said simply, his eyes finding fascination with the tile beneath their feet. “Your son you said? No mother should be separated from her child. Here.” He walked over to the glass cabinet against the wall and opened one of its doors. Lined neatly in rows, the spare keys glistened in the light. “Kellogg was not of the friendly sort. Kept to himself, true, but caused much suspicion in my city. Take this. Find your son.”

   The woman took the key with a thank you, before turning and hurrying away. She could tell that, though the mayor was probably sincere in his concern, his words were still just acting. She went back down the lift and made her way back to the door in question. Nick was waiting for her outside, leaning against the railing with one hand curled around the metal bar and the other holding another cigarette.

   He looked up at her approach. “Persuade them to let you have the key, did you? Good. You want to do the honors?”

   Rebecca unlocked the door and they both entered the small metal shack. Inside it was cold and the vault dweller shivered, pulling her jacket closed again. She looked around, her eyes tracing the walls and up the stairs in front of her. Kellogg had left the apartment furnished, making it seem as though someone still lived here.

   “I’ll look over here, you check by the desk. Look for anything out of place. Look for a note or something cleaner than the area around it.” Nick moved away, heading into what seemed to be a living area.

   Rebecca took a deep breath, inhaling stale dusty air, and approached the desk. On its surface were several notes, but she found nothing relevant as she sifted through them. Digging through the drawers, she found some pens, some prewar bubblegum, and some more blank paper. Nothing, she thought with growing dread. What if there wasn’t anything here? What if they couldn’t track him?

   “Check under the desk,” Nick called. She glanced up to see him smile knowingly, as if he could hear her thoughts. “You’d be surprised.”

   She did as he suggested, getting down on her hands and knees and looking up at the desk. There, clear as daylight, was a large red button. “Oh my god,” she said loudly, reaching up to press it. “Who leaves that in plain sight?

   The detective laughed. “Good work. Sometimes what you need to find is in plain sight. Not every crook is some evil mastermind. Most are just arrogant. Now...would you look at that. Good way to hide a room.”

   They both turned to the wall, where it had slid open after she had pressed the button. It was a safe room of some sort, with a chair in the middle. Shelves lined the walls, covered in food and purified water. Next to the chair was a small table, where several bottles of alcohol and an ashtray stood in disarray.

   Rebecca approached the table while Nick checked the shelves. “There doesn’t seem to be any clues as to where he went. Not surprising, but still.”

   The detective sighed heavily. “No, it’s not.” He moved closer to the chair and his gaze fell to the cigar balanced on the ashtray. “What if we could physically track him? There was plenty of these,” he said and gestured to the bottles, “out there. Seems to be his favored drink. What if we use that?”

   “What? Do you mean we sniff him out or something? Or...oh. Dogmeat.”

   “Exactly. Dogmeat can track anything. I’d know.” The detective reached down and snagged a bottle and the cigar. He stowed them in one of the many pockets of his trenchcoat before turning to the door. “Let’s go see what our scavenger friend says about us borrowing her dog.”

   Back at the agency, they found Anna and Ellie seated at two separate desks. Ellie sifted through a few files, making notes on some and muttering to herself. Anna, on the other hand, had a screwdriver in hand and seemed to be tinkering with a metal contraption.

   “Don’t sever anything you might miss,” Nick called out to her, breaking her concentration. She spun around in her chair, tossing the screwdriver back into the drawer at the front of the desk. “We didn’t find anything to tell us where he went, or why he was here. But we did find this.”

   Anna eyed the bottle and cigar doubtfully. “Valentine, I hope you’re not suggesting we get drunk. Drunk me would not be suitable for combat.”

   “Well, if drunk you wasn’t so sleepy, she might actually be useful.”

   The scavver raised one eyebrow at his sarcasm before laughing. Rebecca chuckled at their banter, savoring the laughter as it soothed her anxious nerves. “Well, we were thinking we could use these to track Kellogg. You know, have Dogmeat follow the trail the old fashioned way. Do you think it will work?”

   Anna considered this for a moment. “It could. The trail will be old and stale, but Dogmeat’s a champ about this kind of thing. He once tracked a lady’s missing cat several miles out of town, through a rainstorm. Remember that?”

   “Oh, I remember alright. The memory’s a bit hazy though, I think you are the one who tried to pick the cat up and earned a few scratches for your time.” Nick sat at his desk again, leaning back in the chair and meeting the scavver’s gaze with amusement.

   “Well, all I remember is the scratches Anna had all along her arms. But the cat was returned, and that was all that mattered in the end.” Ellie added her own take to the conversation, throwing the words over her shoulder before returning to her work.

   Anna rolled her eyes, but folded up her shirt to show a few faint scars. “So, I’m more of a dog person. To answer your question, yes. Dogmeat can likely track Kellogg. Can’t you, buddy?” The dog wagged his tail as she reached out to ruffle the thick fur on his shoulders. “But it’s late. We probably shouldn’t go out at this time of night. Raiders like to prowl the major routes at night, and even with the three of us, that wouldn’t end well.”

   “She’s right. The trail won’t change overnight.” Nick looked over to Rebecca. “I don’t sleep. Or eat, or anything like that really. But you both should get some rest yourselves. Sounds like we have a long day ahead of us, and if we do manage to find him...”

   “We’ll do it together,” Anna finished for him, catching his pointed words. “That is, if you’ll have us. Listen, Ev.” She addressed the vault dweller seriously, using a shortened version of her middle name, Evelyn. “If this is something you need to do yourself, that’s fine.” Anna looked at her friend seriously. Her brown eyes were sympathetic. “Dogmeat will take you to him and keep you safe. However, if you want the extra help, just say the word.”

   “I…” Rebecca looked between the two. Anna, her first friend in his new world, with her experience and quick thinking. Nick, the grizzled, film-noir detective who always sought to do what was right. “I’d like it if you both came with me. I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

   “You can,” Nick replied sincerely. “But we’ll gladly have your back.”

   Rebecca looked away, wringing out her hands. “Thanks, both of you. I’m still shocked at all this hospitality. Still not quite used to this place. It means a lot, really, to have you two doing this for me.”

   “Don’t even think on it.” Anna came over to her and slung an arm around her shoulder. It was the opposite of the arm that had taken the bullet, as even with time and two stims, she was still a bit sore. “We’re friends, now. Like it or not. And that’s just what friends do.”

   “Here comes that nobility again. You might want to stop her there, Rebecca.”

   “Enough,” Anna said with playful scorn. She pulled away from the vault dweller and thought for a moment. “When you’re ready to call it a night, I’ll walk you over to the Dugout Inn. Best rooms for rent in town. How’s that?”

   So it was that, after a few more hours, and a hot dinner that Ellie and Anna fixed, the vault dweller found herself standing in the small room she had rented at the city’s hotel. It was clean, if dark from a lack of windows. As the bed looked so inviting, she hurried to strip down. Her boots (having come with the vault suit) were kicked off against the wall. Her leather armor tossed onto the chair beside the bed, as well as her jacket. Her jeans discarded in a heap.

   The sheets were freshly laundered, smelling faintly like some kind of flower. She smiled and curled up in the bed, feeling her fatigue catching up with her. She pushed aside her worries and thoughts from the day, seeking the oblivion that was sleep.

 

   Anna slowly made her way back to the marketplace, steps falling softly on the metal walkway. The city was quiet now, with the rush having finally died away. Most people were turning in for the night, either settling down for dinner and sleep, or heading to the bar for some late drinking. Either way, she found herself alone as she walked. And that suited her.

   The city was too crowded for her to stay long. When she had moved here, she had done it out of necessity. The memories were fuzzy and missing in parts, but she attributed that to the trauma she had endured when she left home. The brain had funny ways of handling stress, she always thought.

   So she had eventually moved away again, seeking land on which to settle herself. It had taken her a while to find somewhere she had felt safe from her old fears, but once she found the truck stop, she knew she was home. Dogmeat had greeted her like an old friend, and they had been inseparable ever since. She had healed, and made a life for herself. And with some new friends, people she could count on, she was happier than she ever had been.

   The scavver slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans and moved around the marketplace. Spotting something, she glanced up to see Nick walking towards her. She stopped and waited for him to approach, taking in the familiar sight.

   “Come to escort me back, detective?”

   “No,” he replied easily. “You don’t need that, doll. I was going to take a walk, and wondered if you’d like to join me. It’s been a long time since we just walked together.”

   “Usually for one reason or another. One being distance and another being our tendency for getting distracted.” Anna smiled at him and offered him her hand. He took it. “Let’s go and see what trouble we can get into.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm getting the rest of the story planned out and I can't wait to write it all. So stay tuned! And most importantly, have a great day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio finally tracks down Kellogg and learns that Rebecca's missing son is indeed inside the Institute. The next step is finding out how to get inside. Though no one has ever done so, Rebecca is determined to figure it out.

The next morning Rebecca blinked open her eyes to a dark room. She was confused for a moment, sleep still tugging at her eyelids, before she caught the sounds of people around her. The Dugout Inn. Diamond City. She settled for a few minutes to prepare herself.

It was going to be a long day. Whether she found Kellogg or not - not to mention if she found her son - it was going to be a day of hard travel. They were going to run after a dog who was tracking a faint scent trail, she didn’t expect it was going to be easy.

And what if they did encounter Kellogg? From what Nick had said, about him being a ruthless mercenary, she worried about their safety. Her first friends in this new world, and they could easily be killed. But, she reasoned as she pulled herself into a sitting position, they would not have offered their help if they weren’t up to it.

And this was her only lead to finding her son. She had to take it.

She redressed quickly, pulling on her jeans, boots, and the leather armor Anna had given her. Running her hands through her hair to work out some of the knots, she wished for a hot bath to wash up in. But some things could not be helped, and so she did her best to tame her hair before braiding it. Her fingers wove the dark strands together like always, the ends coming to rest comfortably between her shoulder blades.

Rebecca left the room, shutting it quietly behind her. She heard the bustle of the inn’s lobby, where patrons came to eat, drink, and socialize. Following it, she blinked in the bright light that hung over the bar. Two men, ones she had be introduced to the night before, stood there engrossed in conversation. Vadim and Yefim, the two brothers that owned and operated the inn. She waved a greeting when Vadim looked up. She was thankful for the room, but desperate to get going, so she slipped out of the building before he could say anything to her.

Sunlight shined down on the city, bright like the day before. She glanced around her, following the pathway in her mind as she recalled the trip here. A security guard passed her, nodding to her as he did so.

She took off then, her footsteps soundless in the general din of the city. Weaving in and out of the crowd, she came to a halt when a guard suddenly caught her.

“Whoa there, lady. You might want to stand back.”

Rebecca did so, peering around him. About ten feet in front of them, and ringed by curious onlookers that the guards struggled to contain, were two men. One had a pistol raised, holding it out and pointed at the other’s chest. He was furious, eyes narrowed as he spoke.

“You’re not my brother. You don’t act like him anymore, you talk differently. Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, replacing my brother like that? Huh?” He spat these words and Rebecca clasped a hand over her mouth. “The Institute just thinks they can do this to my family?”

“Please!” the other man cried. He had his arms up, hands empty as he pleaded. “I’m not a synth! I am your brother, always have been!”

“Bullshit!”

The gunshot rang out and the crowd flinched, people screaming. The guards held out their arms to keep the people back, shouting orders. Rebecca stood there, both hands over her ears. The seconds seemed to drag by as people reacted. Some ran off, others started to cry.

“Move along, ma’am,” the guard that had stopped Rebecca spoke again. “Please, get moving. There’s nothing to see here.”

The vault dweller looked from him to the body on the ground, horror and anger taking root in her belly. “What just happened?”

“Nothing, now get moving.” His words were curt this time and he gestured with his hands for her to leave. He waited until she had backed away before turning to help the others tend the crowd.

Rebecca blinked at the body, catching the sight of blood. It bubbled from the man’s chest and ran down to the muddy ground he lay on. There was just so much of it. So much blood, over a simple accusation. What if he had been wrong, and the man was his brother after all? The thoughts tumbled in her mind as she stood there, her face pale.

“The Institute is here,” a woman to her left mumbled. “Oh god, they’ve replaced someone in the city.”

The vault dweller winced at the woman’s grieved tone. This fueled her horror and she frowned, thinking of the interview the day before. Her son, possibly kidnapped by the same people. Nick, a discarded prototype who wasn’t sure why he existed. Anna and Ellie, even, had been furious at the name.

Just who was the Institute? She mulled it over as she began to walk, her eyes on the ground. Why did they replace people and why did they have such a hold over this place? These thoughts led her back to her family. If they were responsible for Warren’s murder and her baby’s kidnapping, they would face her wrath. Her thoughts darkened as she pictured facing these people, and that scared her.

“We have to find Kellogg first,” she reminded herself sternly. “And then, he might not even be with them. And if he doesn’t have Shaun, I...just don’t know.” Here she looked up and followed the neon signs back to the agency, hoping that the trail didn’t end today.

She knocked on the metal door and heard a voice inside, Ellie probably, call out. Opening the door, she took in the sight of the apartment and let its familiarity soothe her nerves. She smelled coffee and smiled, realizing just how much she missed that luxury.

Ellie greeted her first, the young woman holding out a steaming mug of said drink. “Here, take this. You look like you could use it,” she added with a smile. “Sorry, we don’t exactly have anything fancy to put in it. Plain it is.”

Rebecca murmured her thanks and took a sip from the mug, her fingers wrapping themselves around its warmth. The taste and heat was welcome, and she took the seat in front of the desk at Ellie’s insistence. She heard movement from elsewhere in the apartment and looked up to see Nick joining them. He tipped his hat to her before settling behind the desk and straightening the sleeves of his button-down shirt. It was frayed at the edges, wear showing in the loose threads and thin patch or two.

Anna and Dogmeat joined them last, the scavver outfitted in the same jeans as the day before, rumpled as if she had slept in them. Her jacket was missing, revealing an old white tee-shirt. She offered a wave and sat herself at her own desk, pulling a hairbrush, tangled with strands of blonde hair, from its front drawer. She pulled it through her hair briskly before pulling it all back, her eyes unfocused. There were faint purple splotches beneath her eyes, making Rebecca think of the scavver’s comment about her trouble sleeping.

“So,” Nick spoke up as Rebecca continued sipping her coffee. “Are you ready to get started? Is there anything you need to get first? We don’t know how far out of town this trail will take us.”

Rebecca thought of the lack of food in her bag and her limit of ammunition. “I could use some more bullets, and some food to keep. Just in case we’re out for a while. But yes, let’s go.”

“Well alright. We can stop by the marketplace before we leave for ammo, and we have some food here we can take. Besides, I’m sure some of the others are eager to meet you.” Nick patted his pockets, as if checking his own supplies. “I’m all set, at any rate. Anna?”

“Good to go,” the scavver said with a nod. She was leaning over and lacing her boots. “I’ll do the same, stop before we leave. Could use some more plasma cartridges anyway.”

Rebecca felt both of their eyes on her then and swallowed her nerves. “Are you sure you guys are okay with this? I mean, this is my problem and it’s going to be dangerous.”

“Of course,” Anna replied with a wink. “I can’t let you have all the fun. Besides, you’re my friend, Ev. And you hired him,” she said and hooked her thumb to indicate the detective. “We’re in this together. With the three of us hunting him down, Kellogg won’t know where to hide.”

Warmth spread in the vault dweller’s chest and she glanced down at the dregs in her coffee mug. The others seemed to catch on to this and stood to get ready. Anna pulled on her jacket, buttoning it closed with nimble fingers. She grabbed her rifle, from its place leaning against the desk, and hooked it onto her back. Nick did the same, shrugging on his trenchcoat and leaning down to ruffle Dogmeat’s ears when the dog wandered over to sniff at his knees.

Nick and Ellie collected some of the food they could spare, and it was divided between Anna and Rebecca’s many pockets. Anna grinned happily as she claimed a box of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes.

Rebecca found herself taking the lead out of the office. Ellie waved and wished them well, making it clear that she expected them back unharmed. They promised this before making their way to the marketplace.

The vault dweller stopped before one of the merchants, a fidgety woman with short dark hair. “Hi,” she said and tapped her coinpurse again as she thought of what she needed. “I just need to get some supplies.”

The woman looked up from her clipboard and took the trio in. Her eyes narrowed and she jutted her chin out defiantly. “No! No synths allowed here. Get out of my shop.”

Rebecca recoiled at the sudden outburst, but before she could say anything Nick stepped in. “Good to see you too, Myrna. Now, it’s not me who wants to shop here. My friend here does.” He seemed to glare at the shopkeeper for a moment before she relented, although reluctantly.

“Fine,” she snapped. “You can shop here. But keep that synth away from my store.”

Confusion melted into irritation, and Rebecca turned to leave. “Nevermind. I don’t see anything I need anyway. Let’s move on.”

Nick and Anna exchanged a glance, the scavver raising one eyebrow, before they followed Rebecca to the next stall. There she met Arturo and both she and Anna purchased some more ammunition. They pooled together some caps and bought some new gauze from the medic across the way, along with a few stimpaks they knew they would need.

“What happened here?” Anna asked as they approached the scene from that morning. The body had been removed, but there was still some blood splattered across the ground. A guard stood over it, making sure curious onlookers kept moving.

Rebecca sighed and told them the story of the fight, the one brother accusing the other of being a synth. Nick frowned at the news, his face darkening slightly, while Anna rubbed her hands warily over her face.

“Paranoia,” the scavver said. “Christ, when does it end?”

When they were ready, Nick reached inside the pocket of his coat and withdrew the cigar from the night before. The label read San Francisco Sunlights, a brand that Rebecca vaguely remembered from before the bombs fell. The detective held it out to Dogmeat and encouraged him to track it. The dog sniffed eagerly and then turned away, lifting his nose into the ear. They waited with baited breath, hoping that he could find it, before he barked victoriously and took off at a run.

The trio rushed to catch up to him, following him out of the city gates and towards the southwest. Dogmeat loped easily, stopping every few minutes to sniff the ground and find the trail again. Several times he stopped entirely, waiting for them to discover another clue to Kellogg’s whereabouts.

The first was a chair beside a small pond, where an ashtray sat holding the remains of a burned out cigar. Rebecca stepped forward and snatched it, holding it to Dogmeat to smell. He took off again, howling as he went.

They continued running, Rebecca panting as she did so. She had been a lawyer, not an athlete or military woman. Dogmeat stopped a second time at a highway, his body twisting down a set of concrete steps that led to a lower level. Cars, broken down and long since abandoned, sat silently as the trio looked around.

Anna called the others over, gesturing to another chair resting beside a low wall. “There’s a bottle of beer. His creature comfort, I assume.”

“Right,” Rebecca said and repeated the gesture.

Dogmeat ran for a long time then, tail streaking out behind him. A few times they can some close calls with irradiated animals, but nothing avoidance or a gunshot couldn’t solve. The next time he stopped, he dropped low and stalked forward, growling low in his throat.

Anna readied her plasma rifle as they approached the scene of a fight. A car was smouldering, likely having been shot enough to explode, and what looked to be mechanical parts dotted the highway.

“Damn. Looks like a hell of a party happened here.” Nick Valentine walked forward and fixed his keen gaze on the parts in front of him. “Look.”

Rebecca frowned at the figure he had gestured to. It was the remains of a robot, edges sparking with damage. The eyes, red and glowing, turned to regard the group. “Alert. Damage sustained. Systems critical.” The voice was distorted and crackled with static.

“What happened to you?” Anna asked, crouching down.

“Kellogg. Moved to intercept. He - damage -” There was a pause. “I can’t feel my legs.”

The eyes faded then, the robot going silent. Anna stood and swore, shaking her head. “Jesus. If he can do this to an assaultron, he’s a hell of a fighter. But,” she added when she noticed the vault dweller staring down at the damage. “We already knew that. Let’s keep going.”

They followed Dogmeat again as he left the highway and took to the grassy hills. They worked their way up one rocky slope to see him pawing at a rusted iron fence. On it was a strip of fabric stained red.

“We’re close,” Nick spoke again. He reached out and picked up the fabric, frowning in distaste. “I can feel it. Get ready for a fight.”

The next time they stopped was at an old military base. Dogmeat was vehement, howling as he dug at the boarded up entrance. His hackles were raised, fangs bared in challenge. Anna crouched beside him, calming him in a low voice. She ruffled his fur then, looking over her shoulder at the other two.

“Is he in here, boy?” Rebecca stepped forward, eyeing the building with some trepidation. Her resolve, however, had not wavered. If Kellogg was here, she wanted to face him. She needed answers. She was going to get her son back.

Nick agreed with her words. “It looks like Dogmeat found our man. Good boy. How about we give our four-legged friend a break while we go face Kellogg?”

“Nick’s right, Dogmeat. Go ahead and keep Ellie company until we get back. Go on,” the scavver said, encouraging him until he left. He disappeared into the wasteland, trotting easily back towards Diamond City. Anna watched him go until she could no longer see him before turning to Rebecca. “Well, let’s find a way in. Not every entrance can be blocked.”

The trio explored the campus of Fort Hagen, as it was named, keeping watch for enemies as they sought a way inside. A few tarnished turrets caught sight of them as they did so, causing them to jump behind the nearest wall for protection.

“Looks like he’s got automated defenses!” Nick shouted over the din. The detective was crouching low, pistol at the ready. “And I bet he’s got more inside.”

“Makes you wonder what’s he’s afraid of,” Anna said evenly. She twisted and peered around the wall, sighting the three turrets on the roof. “I bet we can get inside via the roof, but we need to get rid of these guys first.”

“If we move into their sight, they’ll kill us.”

Anna turned back to the vault dweller with a grim smile. “The trick with turrets is to either wait for an opening and take the shot, or hope to distract them. Distraction doesn’t usually work and we have nothing to spare. But they’ll stop shooting when they realize we’re out of range.” True to the woman’s words, the turrets stopped firing and the three settled at the momentary relief. “Now, we just need to be quick about it.”

Both she and Nick moved then, each sighting a turret and firing off several rounds. Rebecca flinched at the resulting explosions, sweat running down her back. She shifted when they returned to cover, eyeing the scavver for injuries.

“I can see why people use these things,” she spoke quietly. Her words were drowned in the shower of bullets that came from the final turret. Seconds passed again as the trio crouched, listening to the high-pitched patter of the bullets striking the concrete. Rebecca hoped the wall would hold.

When the turret stopped she joined the other two in firing at the last enemy. She pulled the trigger to her 10mm several times, feeling it kick back in her hands. Whether it was her bullet or someone else’s, she wasn’t sure, but the machine exploded with a bang, shrapnel flying out in all directions. Its base flickered with fire.

Anna peered around at the rooftops before gesturing for the others to follow. “Only three?” she asked with mock offense. “You wound me, Kellogg.”

"I don’t think you’ll feel the same later,” Nick reminded with a grin. He and Rebecca followed Anna as she climbed around the building until they found a wooden ramp that led to the roof. From there they found a grate that would take them inside. The detective pulled on it only to find it locked. “You want to get this? You’re better than I at locks.”

Anna nodded and moved past him, crouching near the lock and pulling out a small tin. Form within she pulled a bobby pin and a small screwdriver. “Shouldn’t be too difficult,” she assured as she set to work. A minute or so passed, Rebecca looking around for more hostiles, before the lock clicked. “And like that, we are in.”

The scavver swung open the grate and they headed inside.

 

They descended slowly, listening carefully for enemies. None of them knew where Kellogg would be, though they all assumed it would be the lowest level of the basement. And none of them knew, either, what kind of defenses he had set up. If the automated turrets outside were enough to go by, he would not be caught unawares.

Moving together, each clutching their weapon of choice, they slipped through narrow corridors lit by flickering wall lights. It was cold and unnaturally quiet, prompting the detective to comment on it being much too quiet for anything good.

It was not far into the aged building until they encountered their first enemy. Nick held up a hand at one intersection, eyes fixed on something in the distant tunnel. “Looks like our mercenary has powerful friends,” he remarked coldly, nodding towards the figures. Standing there in the shadows, like armored mechanical wraiths, were two synths.

“So we were right. That doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.” Anna was frowning, her fingers white. “Do we try to get past them, or take them out?”

Nick was considering this, tracing the area with quick eyes. “If we do manage to get past these two, there’ll be more. If Kellogg has these resources, then he’ll use them.”

Rebecca crept forward. “We just treat this like we did the Triggermen in Vault 114. Move past the ones we can, take out those we can’t. Same some bullets and maybe our lives.” She gestured to the other corridor with one finger. “Let’s go this way. There’s always another way.”

Though in this case it did not seem Anna shared her friend’s optimism, she nodded and the two followed her. They slipped past the first two synths and several others as well. They were tense, knowing that now they were deep in an enemy encampment and surrounded by hostiles. If they were caught, it would be a bloodbath.

Rebecca thought of this as they moved on, deeper into the fortress. She could feel the ground pressing on her from all sides, trapping her just as effectively as the vault’s cryogenic pod had. Her breaths were shallow as she sought to contain this terror, her palms slick with sweat.

A voice broke out, full of static as it broke though the air. It was a man’s voice, harsh and taunting. Rebecca recognize the voice and felt anger unfurl in her stomach. “That’s him. That’s who took my son. He’s here.”

The voice drew them deeper into the fortress. The managed to pass by several synths, but not all. The man continued to speak, telling her that she would probably fail, and if she didn’t...well, things aren’t exactly as she expects. As she listened, she rounded a corner to an open area where several synths stood.

They noticed her immediately and drew their weapons. “Enemy detected,” one spoke in a monotone. She gasped and threw herself back as they aimed the pistol at her. Anna caught her with a swear, drawing her back into the cover of the hallway.

“Guess our cover’s blown,” the scavver said. “Let’s get this over with.”

A firefight ensued, the trio seeking to put down the synths quickly to avoid attracting more attention to themselves. The synths fired with deadly precision, their pistols shooting bluish lasers that burned anything they hit. Their armor, a shiny plastic-like material, deflected many of the bullets they took.

“How do you kill them?” Rebecca asked Anna, hoping for some insight. She held her pistol close to her chest as she crouched behind the corner where she was out of range.

“Just keep shooting!” the scavver replied. She ducked another shot, blue streaking over her head and striking the wall behind her. “Aim for the head, and if they have helmets like this guy here,” she panted as she leaned out to fire again. “Choose another area with no armor.”

Her plasma rifle struck the synth three times in the chest and they staggered back, announcing damage. “Oh you think I care?” she shot back as they mentioned being valuable Institute property. “You guys attacked first. I don’t care who you are.”

Rebecca turned her attention to another, a smaller one that had no armor. They were approaching her and carried what looked like a baton. The weapon sparked with electricity, making her blood run cold with fear. Her pistol barked loudly as she fired, bullets peppering the synth’s body. They still approached and swung the baton at her, eyes glowing in the dim light of the room.

Rebecca threw herself to the side, barely avoiding being hit. The hairs on her arms stuck up as the baton missed her by inches, the electrical current sizzling too close. As she landed heavily on the concrete floor, shoulder and hip shrieking in pain, she twisted and fired straight at the synth’s face. Head snapping back, they let out a strangled, mechanical cry, before toppling over entirely. She scrambled to her feet again and put one last bullet in their eye for good measure.

Looking around, she saw Anna advancing on the other synth, taking advantage as they stumbled. Nick kept two others at bay, scowling angrily as he raised his pistol. Rebecca joined him and noted their weapons: one had a rifle and another a second baton.

“Sorry, _friends_ ,” Nick snarled and caught the first in the hand. The laser rifle dropped as one hand exploded in a shower of sparks. Unbothered by this development, the synth advanced still. As they wore little armor, a few more bullets in some choice areas brought them finally down.

The last had run towards them and Rebecca met this charge, pointing her 10mm at their vulnerable face, where even with a helmet her bullets struck true. She lowered her arms slowly at this point, glancing around at the bodies of the fallen synths. Discomfort colored her expression at noting their unseeing eyes, and she wordlessly reloaded her pistol.

Anna did the same, the cartridges clicking into place. “Well, that could have gone worse. I think we avoided drawing more attention to ourselves, too. Not bad.” She eyed the bodies at their feet with a frown. “Those Institute rifles sure pack a punch, don’t they? If you want one, take it. They use fusion cells.”

The vault dweller did so, scooping one of the rifles off the floor. It was still warm from the fight and she shouldered it experimentally. Anna tossed her a box of rounds and she fed them into the chamber for the later. “Now I have three of these,” she said quietly. “Never thought I’d hold even one. Not sure I can, with all my other gear.”

“Well, best keep a hold of that 10mm. Most reliable pistol in the Commonwealth, and the ammo is everywhere.” Nick advised her. His voice was almost drowned out by Kellogg, who seemed surprised that they had managed to defeat the synths. The detective seemed to want to roll his eyes at this but simply nodded for them to continue.

Anna walked beside Rebecca as they moved down the corridor. “Here,” she said and gestured towards the straps on the vault dweller’s armor. “Stop for a second. No sense leaving such a good rifle behind. I can use this buckle and strap here to make a temporary holster. Like so.” She fiddled with said strap for a minute, fingers working quickly. She looped it around and buckled it secure with a triumphant grin. “With the right care and mods, that rifle there will last you years.”

Rebecca put the gun through the strap and tested the movement of her arms. She could still move freely and the gun remained tight to her side. She smiled a thanks and they continued on.

 

“You just don’t stop, do you? Alright fine, we can talk. My synths are standing down for now. Come on in.” Kellogg’s voice was calm as it came from the intercom. He seemed assured, if a bit annoyed by her tenacity. At his words, the metal security doors at the end of the room swung open.

Rebecca inhaled deeply, collecting herself. The group had managed to get to the bottom of the fortress, being forced to fight off the synths that they had passed. She felt the burn on her shoulder from a passing shot of a laser rifle, the jacket scorched and her skin blistered red. Anna was breathing hard and standing close to Nick, who was favoring one leg.

They stood in a round room with one bed and several trunks of gear. The bed was made, but the room itself was dusty and cluttered with the previous owner’s junk. The air was cold, smelling like stone and the metallic tang of blood.

“This is it,” Rebecca said quietly. She glanced back at her companions, who stared back at her with equal determination. They would see it through at her side. Turning back to face the door, she straightened her spine and walked through the doors. She was going to get some answers, and nothing this man could do was going to get in her way.

Lights switched on above her head as she walked into the room. It illuminated rows of terminals, most of which were down or destroyed. The room was long, with tall ceilings that were wreathed in shadows. Synths, she counted at least six, stood a distance away.

And in front of her, walking forward with his hands up, was Kellogg.

“So there she is.” His voice was a low drawl. Dark eyes locked with hers as he regarded her closely. She stood silently, unwilling to be intimidated. “The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth. You put a lot of effort into finding me. So, now that you did, what’s your next move?”

Inside, the woman was seething. This was the man who she saw while trapped in that cryo pod. The one who broke apart her family and taunted her for being a mere “backup”. She wanted to make him pay for his crimes, but her need for answers was more important.

“I want my son back.” Her words were as cold as ice.

Kellogg smiled then, lips curling smoothly. “Well, I can’t help you with that. You see, I don’t have him anymore.” Here he spread out his hands and Rebecca eyed the silver revolver he carried. “Good kid. I almost miss him.”

“Dammit!” Rebecca’s fingers tightened around the rifle in her hands. Wouldn’t it be interesting, she wondered, if he was killed with this Institute weapon? “You mercenary. You motherfucker. Tell me where he is!”

Behind her, Anna shifted at this vehemence. The scavver shared a look of concern with Nick. The synths behind Kellogg did not move, but they both knew that with one word they would attack. And being this outnumbered, the outcome would not be favorable.

“What’s that prewar saying? So close yet so far away? That’s your son. Don’t worry, he’s safe. A bit older than you remember but well, some things just can’t be helped.” Rebecca frowned at his words, but he seemed not to notice. “He’s alive and well. Inside the Institute.”

“Then tell me how to get inside.”

“I can’t do that. Don’t you understand? You don’t find the Institute. The Institute finds you. So you’re out of luck, sole survivor. Sorry that your...investigation ends here.” Kellogg glanced down at his revolver, flexing his fingers as he thought. “I guess we know how this is going to end. The question is, are you ready?”

Rebecca’s eyes flickered to the synths behind him before back to his face. “Are you?”

Everything else happened in a blur. Shouts rang out, bullets whistled through the air. She faced Kellogg as this happened, raising her rifle as he pulled back the hammer on his revolver. But in the next second he disappeared, his form melting into the air as if by magic.

“Stealth boy!” Nick shouted over the din. “Find him!”

Rebecca did so, sliding behind terminals to seek out the mercenary. The air seemed to shift ahead to her right and her gaze fixed on the distorted, shimmering shape of a man. Her feet pounded on the stone floor as she trailed him, shattered glass and loose rubble crunching under her boots. Her rifle was trained on the spot, following the distortion as he evaded her.

She had no care for the synths in the room, trusting that her friends would cover her.

The harsh sound of the revolver snapped in her ears as she drew in closer to him. The bullet grazed her armor, the impact staggering her. She swore and crouched behind a desk, twisting and aiming the rifle at the spot, firing several times. A pained grunt was her reward.

There was no blood to be seen, but what looked like smoke trailed away from the figure as Kellogg retreated farther from her. “Don’t think your trick works now,” she taunted and shouldered the rifle to fire again.

A form slammed into her from behind, metal fingers digging into her shoulders and dragging her back. She writhed, twisting in an effort to dislodge the synth that had grabbed her. A chair was overturned in her struggle, kicked over and clattering into the desk next to it.

The synth’s fingers slipped and grazed her burn and she gasped at the pain, redness hazing her vision. The rifle dropped from her nerveless fingers. “Dammit, let me go!” Her voice cracked as she spoke. She wrenched herself again as the synth pulled her back more, gritting her teeth through the pain.

“Let her go,” Kellogg echoed. As the synth did so, the man seized her by the same wounded shoulder. “Got yourself shot, did you? Was it worth it?”

Angry tears blurred Rebecca’s eyes. There were no words she could say to express her hatred and fury. Instead, she reared back and her fist connected with his jaw. The man swore as he lurched back, eyes narrowed. Rebecca leveled him with a glare, silently amazed by her shot, as he steadied himself.

“I wouldn’t have expected a housewife and former lawyer to know so much about combat,” he commented. “Still, it seems that you and your friends are outmatched.”

Rebecca raised her gaze to see Anna and Nick back-to-back, facing three synths. A fourth lay on the ground, motionless in death. The two friends were haggard, Anna’s face grim and Nick leaning slightly against her back. The vault dweller looked away at this, fighting the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. This was no time for doubting herself.

Before she could question the action, she lunged at Kellogg one last time. Though he had been watching her in those intervene seconds, he was not prepared for her rash decision. They fell to the floor together, hands and feet scrambling.

Rebecca knew that she could not reach her rifle. And then, with her arm still aching, what good would it do her now? Her fingers closed around her 10mm, finding the smooth metal and rubber handle comforting. She had to put a stop to his before Kellogg got in a shot, for at this range that revolver would be lethal no matter the location.

The synth that had grabbed her advanced again, shock baton raised to strike.

“Not another step!” Anna snapped, and the synth shuddered and fell. The scavver had dodged another to take the shot and now looked over to Rebecca in worry. “Hold those last two, Valentine. Ev needs some help.”

“Count on it.”

But Rebecca could not wait for assistance. Kellogg pulled her down and rolled her to her back before sitting up, his weight pinning her to concrete floor. He didn’t bother with pleasantries or taunts. Her pistol had been wrenched from her hand, tossed aside and out of reach. He raised the revolver for a shot but Rebecca’s hand reached out, knocking his arm aside before pulling him down by his collar. He was offset by this, and he fell directly onto the knife she had pulled from the harness on her thigh.

_Always carry a knife, Ev. Keep it close. And if your last stand should come, you have your last weapon, too._ Anna’s words had been accurate, and now that advice had saved her. Kellogg gasped reflexively as the knife bit into his stomach. Blood welled out around Rebecca’s hand and ran down her wrist. She pushed him off her, drawing away long enough to grab her laser rifle.

She felt sick, as even after all the fighting she had done, she still disliked taking a life. But, Kellogg would offer her no answers and no help. If he lived, he would hunt her down.

Anna looked down at the scene, having skidded to a halt. “Finish it, Ev.”

Kellogg had fallen silent as he clutched the grisly wound in his stomach. Red stained the front of his tunic, spreading like a disease. He had worn little armor, and Rebecca thanked whatever fate had decided that. There would be no healing from the wound. The shot, when Rebecca delivered it, met him with grim efficiency.

The last synths put up little fight, having received enough damage. One crawled forward, dragging their body towards Nick in blind determination, but he ended them with a frown. Sighing, the detective joined the two women. “Check his pockets. Old mercenary might have something on him we can use.”

Rebecca did so, bloody fingers shaking as she dug through the dead man’s pockets for information. There was nothing that told her who he was, or where her son was. She passed the rounds of ammunition to Anna, who stowed them away in her pack. “Nothing. But wait,” she said slowly as she saw the glint of metal. She followed it to the man’s skull, where upon closer inspection she found something akin to a metal chip embedded into his scalp. “Oh. This is the Institute’s handiwork, I guess.”

Nick crouched beside her, tilting Kellogg’s head to the side for a better view. “That may be just what we need.”

“Well, I suppose my hands are already bloody enough.” Rebecca’s voice was hollow as she glanced down at herself. Blood smeared her shirt and jacket, both hers and Kellogg’s. “Not that I fancy digging into someone’s brain.”

The words caught Anna, who knelt beside her. “You need to be tended to, before we can do anything. Come over here and sit so I can take a look at those wounds.” She met Nick’s gaze evenly and saw him nod once. “There we go. Now, just like before, right?”

Rebecca blinked slowly, weary and sick. She moved her arms at Anna’s gentle insistence, wincing as her wounds were irritated. “My son isn’t here,” she said. “Kellogg didn’t have him. The Institute does.” Anger replaced her grief and she funneled it into her determination. She sat up straighter, glancing down at Anna as the scavver worked to bandage her wounds. “We need to find a way inside.”

“No one has managed that. Not that I know of.” Pulling out a stimpak from her supplies, Anna injected it into Rebecca’s shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be done. There has to be a way, and we’ll find it.”

A while later, Nick joined them, sitting himself heavily on a desk before them. Though he continued moving with no complaint, it was clear that his leg was still hurting. “We all bandaged up?” he asked, eyeing them with some worry. “Good. Now, you were on to something, Rebecca. What you saw is an implant.” He held up a small mass, cleaned of all blood. Wires poked out of it and Rebecca could see the circuits within. “Cybernetic. Looks awfully familiar, too.”

“So where do we go from here?” Anna asked.

“We’re in the weeds here,” Nick admitted with a frown. “This implant may be our only lead, and I know of only one person who can help us with this. I think it’s time we talk to Dr. Amari. Fancy a trip to Goodneighbor?”

“Always fancy a trip to that end of town.”

Nick smiled at her humor before turning to Rebecca. The vault dweller was still shaken. The stim may have taken away most of her physical pain, but the emotional toll of this day was enough to floor anyone. “Hey,” he spoke up and offered her an encouraging grin. “Look, I know the night just got a little darker, but it won’t last forever. We’ll get your boy back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I have finally decided how many chapters are going to be in this story. There will be a second part and possibly a third to finish it all out. Those I'm still working on. What I do know is that there will be some DLC shenanigans later on! I'm really excited but I'll avoid saying too much. 
> 
> Either way, thanks for reading! Have a great day and I'll see ya next week.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our sole survivor gets the chance to see into Kellogg's memories. In doing so, she finds out where her son is but is left with the question: how is she going to get there?

The trip back to to the surface was uneventful. After digging around the basement for more information and finding little but a terminal with some of Kellogg’s writing, they left Fort Hagen. There was nothing more for them there and a long trip to Goodneighbor.

Outside, a loud humming settled over them. It made the hairs on Rebecca’s arms stand up and she shivered, looking up to the sky. A large blimp hovered on the horizon, steadily drawing closer to them. Lights flickered at its sides, illuminating its steel-colored panels, and spotlights shone down on the Commonwealth below.

“What is that?” she asked to no one in particular. She and her two companions stared up at it in awe, following its steady track across the sky. “Is that...no. They’re still here? The military?”

As if answering her questions, a loudspeaker buzzed and a voice boomed over their heads. It announced the presence of the Brotherhood of Steel. Rebecca clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Warren had spent some time as a member, working behind the scenes in the war effort before pulling away. He had praised the Brotherhood for its efficient methods and ability to fight, but disliked the sheer authoritarian leadership. It hadn’t been a good fit.

A vertibird, one of the faction’s small flying units, broke away from the blimp and joined the others that scouted the air around the great machine. One of the spotlights swung near them and the trio stepped back to avoid being spotted.

“Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there,” Nick began, quoting an old passage of poetry. His voice was quiet and Rebecca could detect no small amount of horror. “Wondering. Fearing.”

Anna moved closer to him, her stance defiant, and frowned up at the blimp as it continued its way to the coast. “Christ. I thought they were a D.C. thing. They want to base operations here, too? What’s here that they want?”

“I assume nothing good. Mark my words, they’re here to start another war.”

Rebecca found herself agreeing with the detective. Even without Warren’s inside experiences, she didn’t have a high regard of the military faction. But, then, she supposed she just didn’t trust too many such organizations. Especially ones that announced themselves with such fervor. Pronouncement of peace or no, she feared what their appearance in this area meant.

They left the rooftop and made their way back to the ground, regrouping after scouting the area for any hostiles. Anna dug out two of her water bottles and handed one to Rebecca. “It isn’t much, but wash up. We get to Goodneighbor, we can bathe properly.” Using the water and the scraps of rags the scavver had with her, the two women wiped away much of the blood that had dried onto their skin. Rebecca wished she could wash her clothing as well, looking down at the rust-colored stains on her jacket and shirt.

“They have laundry services there?”

“Actually, yes. Probably not the laundromats you’re probably used to, but there are a few machines. Not for public use typically, but if you know the owner and have a few caps, you’re all set.” Anna followed the vault dweller’s gaze and offered her a rueful smile. “Trust me, you get used to bloodstains. It’s not pretty and never will be, but it’s another part of living in this world.”

“I can see that. We’re going to attract a lot of attention in Goodneighbor, I can assume.”

At this the scavver laughed. “Probably not. Granted, straight up bloodstains like ours are questionable, but Goodneighbor isn’t exactly a model for peaceful city. Nice enough people, but not fond of strict rules and they don’t give in to intimidation.”

“I suppose that’s one description,” Nick added as the two women disposed of the rags. He bandaged his leg and relief softened his features. “I’ll need to take a look at that later. As for Goodneighbor, some say that town is nothing but trouble, and quite a few cases take me there for some reason or another. But I’ll let you make your own decision.”

Rebecca nodded at this. She reasoned that the town in question couldn’t be worse than the wasteland itself, but would reserve her judgment until they reached its gates. The group retraced the steps they had made following Dogmeat, watching the sun dip towards the horizon. Anna mentioned that they could make it before too late, if they kept a decent pace. Rebecca agreed to keep moving as though she was mentally exhausted from confronting Kellogg, she wanted this done.

Entering Boston once more, they skirted around Diamond City and wove through the alleyways that headed east. They passed several trouble spots featuring super mutants and raiders. Anna seemed relieved as they skirted around the mutants and Rebecca could not blame her. Fighting that single one the day before had left quite an impression on her. The raiders on the other hand, were harder to sneak around. 

The trio huddled in the dark of one alley, guns pointed towards the camp, as two scarred raiders searched the area. Rebecca raised her brows at the sight of their gear. The guns looked like pipes glued together and the armor was dark leather studded with metal. Though she wondered about their choices, she knew that they would not be kind to their prey. From what she had been told, and the harshness in their eyes, she had no doubt of their cruelty.

“Come on out, I’ll make it nice and quick,” one of the raiders said in a soothing voice. He glanced towards where they hid, but thankfully the shadows caused by the buildings - and the approaching sunset - made them hard to see. “You can trust me!”

Rebecca rolled her eyes at this, doubting his words. She held her breath until both raiders had given up before letting it go in a rush. “They always this stupid?”

“No,” Nick replied as he straightened out his coat. He led the way out of the alley, picking his way over the debris. They headed away from the hostiles, and Rebecca was noticing an increase in such rubble. “I think we were lucky there. Some of them are dumb as posts, sure, but not all of them. And you don’t want to get caught by them. If we got any closer to that base, we would’ve got an eyeful.”

Rebecca paled at his description. She followed him wordlessly, Anna taking up the rear. They were taking no chances in this end of town. Between the increased amount of hostiles (and the lack of city guards) and the difficult terrain, the two knew better than to be anything less than alert. Though their experience was welcome, as it had kept them alive so far, Rebecca found all of it unnerving.

Soon enough, through the shadows of evening, the gates of Goodneighbor were visible. The neon letters shone with a harsh, flickering light that made Rebecca’s eyes water. She averted her gaze and followed the detective up to the gate. As it was not kept locked, for a reason Rebecca could not guess, the trio entered the city. 

The heavy wood shut solidly behind them, the sound drowned out by the din of the bustling city. Though it was not as loud as Diamond City, there was a rougher, more carefree element to this settlement. Rebecca turned around and took in its appearance, frowning as she suddenly recalled what this place used to be.

“The old state house,” she muttered to herself. Her gaze traveled over the ancient building’s face before jumping to the others in the square. It was a tight city, as it had been before the war, the buildings clustered close together as if sheltering from the world. Several of the buildings in her direct sight had been repurposed into stores, each branded with neon lettering. 

The square in front of them was open, several old benches clustered under the streetlights. The cobblestone was broken in places, some pieces missing entirely. There was rubbish in the corners, clustered around rusted barrels where orange fires flickered.

Rebecca watched the people around her and noticed that there was something common across most of them. They all had the same reddish skin and burned scars as the feral she and Anna had passed on their way across the wasteland. She blinked and took this in, wondering why they were civil (when the other had clearly not been) and why she hadn’t met one before.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Rebecca continued. She looked back at the statehouse and the group clustered in front of it. “That baseball field still stands. There must be so many other buildings that I remember still here.”

Anna looked over at her with curiosity. She went to speak, but was interrupted as someone approached them. She straightened, looking as if she recognized the man.

“Well if it isn’t Nicky Valentine. What are you doing here this late at night?” the man drawled, coming to a stand in front of them. He was armed, the shotgun resting on his back clearly taken good care of. “Come to track down another wayward mistress?”

Rebecca drew in a breath, finding herself tiring of this kind of behavior. This was a grown man. Why he felt the need to speak this way of another person was beyond her. And that he stood there, cocksure and looking for a fight, angered her.

Nick shifted and met the man’s stare evenly. “Why? Someone stand you up?”

“And just who are you, anyway? Valentine’s new dick-in-training?”

The man had turned to Rebecca, eyeing her closely. She crossed her arms over her chest, debating on how to answer. His insults were nothing new to her. “I don’t see how it’s your business,” she said coldly. 

To his credit, the man only shrugged. “Now don’t be like that, sweetheart. You just look like you’re in need of some insurance. I can provide that, for a price.”

Obviously at an end with her patience, Anna stepped forward. “Unless it’s Keep Dumb Assholes Away From Me Insurance, we’re not interested. Now back off.”

Unfazed by the scavver’s warning, the man smiled. It was a slick smile, one that reminded Rebecca of the ones she had received in Vault 114. “Ladies. I wasn’t offering. Look, either you hand over those weapons and come with me, or accidents start to happen. Big, bloody accidents. You’re in Goodneighbor now, remember. Toughest city there is.”

He reached for his shotgun, but was interrupted as someone else approached. “Whoa, now. What’s going on here?” This man’s voice was a calm rasp and he glared at the shotgun-toting man as he joined them. He, too, shared the telltale signs of severe radiation that the others did.

Rebecca blinked in surprise at this newcomer. The brilliant red coat was hard to miss, lined with worn frills and coming to rest just above his knees. And under that was a faded white tunic and a peculiarly patriotic scarf tied around the waist of his jeans. But what Rebecca found oddest was the tricorn hat resting on his bald head almost like a crown. 

He was dressed like someone in a colonial reenactment, and carried himself with a stubborn sort of pride. Striding over to the first man, he spoke again. “Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to my town, and you bother him with that extortion crap? Good to see you, Nick.”

The detective nodded in greeting, his hands in his pockets.

“Let them go, friend.” The man’s voice, a quiet rasp, had darkened considerably as he turned back to the other man.

“You can’t keep letting people walk all over you, Hancock. One day, they’ll take over this town, I’m sure of it.” The man spread out his hands as if emphasizing his words. He seemed fearless, but Rebecca was sure it was an act..

“I said, let them go.”

“No. You keep this shit up, there’s going to be a new mayor in Goodneighbor. Just wait. You’re getting soft, Hancock. You ain’t protecting your town.”

Hancock smiled then, teeth visible in the streetlights. “Come here,” he crooned and held out an arm. “I’ve got this all covered, friend.” Stepping forward, he moved in towards the other man and Rebecca saw the shine of metal. Two harsh jabs later, he pushed the man’s dying body away and let it fall to the cobblestone.

The man choked on blood, clutching the gruesome wound in his abdomen. Rebecca averted her eyes, wondering if she should cast her judgment of this city now.

“Now why did you have to go and do that?” Hancock sneered, flicking the blood off the knife in his hands. Sheathing it at his hip, he looked dispassionately down at the body. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

He walked over to the trio then, seemingly unconcerned about the blood on his hands. “The names Hancock,” he offered to Rebecca with a grin. “I run Goodneighbor. We’re a town of the people, for the people. You feel me?”

His eyes were completely black and reflected the grimey light of the nearest streetlight. They were fixed on her, and he stood still as if waiting for her response. “Rebecca,” she said and held out hand, figuring good manners were best. “Yes, I think I get it.”

He shook her hand with a hearty chuckle. “Good. Pleasure to meet you, Rebecca. Everyone’s welcome here.” Here the mayor looked over to her friends, his grin never leaving his face. He seemed not to notice, or care about, the blood on their clothing. “So the daring duo returns to Goodneighbor once more. Welcome back.”

“That’s one hell of a welcome,” Anna replied evenly. “I didn’t expect to get shaked down as soon as I crossed the gates. And I certainly didn’t expect to watch a man die. I’ve seen enough of that for today, thanks.”

“I’m sure. Sorry about him, he’s been getting a bit too big around here. Startin’ shit, talkin’ even bigger shit. Makes it hard to be reasonable, y’know.” The mayor shrugged then as he looked down at the dead man. “You three got business?”

“Come to talk to Amari,” Nick replied vaguely. “We’ll catch up another time.”

“Right. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

The mayor winked before turning around and walking back towards the state house. Rebecca watched him go before turning to the others. “I can see why you told me to hold off on my judgement.”

“Oh, still do. Most nights don’t start like this.” Anna gestured and took the lead across the square. They passed by one of the shops, this one boasting its sale of weapons. She wove through the crowd of people in the alley and turned left. “Goodneighbor is a town for drifters. People who aren’t exactly welcome elsewhere.”

“By elsewhere, we mean Diamond City,” Nick added solemnly. 

“Yeah. Hancock and well, most of this town, are ghouls. Not feral, obviously. But that doesn’t stop some people from thinking the worst of them and...I’m sure you get the picture.” Anna glanced up and Rebecca followed her gaze to a white balcony on the side of the state house. There the door opened and Hancock reappeared, calling for an audience. “If you want the history of the town, talk to Hancock. Some shit went down a while back, but I’m not familiar with it.”

She stopped in front of a set of double doors that were illuminated by a pinkish neon sign that read The Memory Den. “Here we are. Nick’s right, if anyone can help us at this point, it’s Amari. She’ll be up still, probably.”

Rebecca nodded and glanced back at the balcony. A crowd had gathered beneath and the mayor began to address them with confidence. The vault dweller sighed as she thought about what her friends had said, stepping inside the building as she did so.

Inside, Nick lead the way this time. He seemed familiar with this place and the two women followed closely. 

The building was decorated lavishly. Rebecca looked around at the plush furniture, most of it in shades of red, and felt heat crawling up her neck. She would have guessed this place to be a brothel, if it wasn’t for the strange, futuristic glass pods lining the brick walls. Several of the pods were occupied, people seated within. These people did not move, and seemed to stare at the screen in front of them.

Curtains were draped from the ceiling to give the illusion of warmth and coziness. The floor was layered with a thick, if worn with use, rug. And all along the walls were advertisements for shows or comic strips.

In the center of the room was a raised dais where a woman lounged back on a sofa. She wore a long, deep maroon dress that looked almost like silk. It dipped low on her chest and rose in an impressive crest of what looked like feathers behind her shoulders. Her boots were black, laced up and disappearing underneath the gown. 

She looked up as they approached, dark eyes pinning Nick to the spot. “Oh, you again. I thought you’d abandoned us, Mister Valentine. And it seems that you brought friends with you this time.”

The detective smiled warmly at the woman before asking where Amari was. “We need to see her, Irma. Is she in?”

“Of course, sugar. She’s downstairs. Go ahead you three.”

 

In the basement was a small laboratory of sorts. The fluorescent white light shone down on exposed brick walls and dingy white floor tiles. Lining the walls were metal shelves and cabinets, many of them holding medical and scientific supplies. And there were two more glass pods, each set up to a seperate terminal on either side of the room.

In the center stood Dr. Amari: a woman of about forty, with her dark hair twisted up in a loose bun at the back of her head. An old, but clean, lab coat was buttoned across her chest and hung down to just above her knees. She was referring to a chart, her back to the door, as they walked in.

“Amari?” Nick called, knocking lightly on the doorframe. 

The woman looked up in surprise. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the three, setting her clipboard on the cabinet behind her. “Nick? What are you doing here? Is there something you need?”

“We need a favor, Amari,” the detective replied and gestured for Rebecca to step forward. He introduced them before continuing with his explanation. “We finally caught Kellogg. He had ties to a case of ours and now we have to access his memories.” 

Rebecca saw the confusion in the woman’s gaze. “The case is mine. It led us to him and he couldn’t, or wouldn’t should I say, help us. I...there was a fight and he’s dead. I was told that you had the technology that could let me see his memories.” Though she had no lost love for the man who had hurt her family, she wasn’t about to boast about killing him.

“What?” Amari was aghast. “Not only are you asking me to defile a corpse, but I’ve never actually done anything like what you’re requesting. I work with living, functioning brains.”

“He took my baby, doctor. He took him away when I was trapped in a cryo pod. Now the only lead is his memories. Please, help me if you can.”

Nick nodded at this. “Kellogg worked for the Institute. He had eyes into the place no other person here has. This is the biggest secret in the Commonwealth. We need this, Amari. And so do you.”

This seemed to break through the doctor’s reservations. “Alright. I won’t ask for specifics, Mister Valentine, as it’s your case. But just know that I can only do so much. As I said, I’ve never attempted to view the memories of the deceased. Now, do you have a sample?”

“Found this in the merc’s brain,” Nick offered and handed her the implant they had found. “You think you can use it?”

The scientist took the implant and inspected it carefully. Her face was fascinated and she dug for a microscope. Turning her back to the trio, she worked the dials of the microscope to enhance her view.  “It’s a neurotransmitter,” she said after a moment. “Attached to the brain itself. Amazing. Look, that’s the hippocampus! Yes, I might be able to use this.” 

“Those circuits look awfully familiar, doc.”

“I suspect the Institute uses much of the same basics,” Amari replied and turned back to the group. She eyed the synth closely, catching on to what he was saying. “I would imagine that what’s in your head is quite similar.”

Rebecca glanced between them, puzzled. “What do you two mean?”

“We could, in theory, try and see if Nick’s circuits could read this. It would be dangerous, though. Plugging this directly into his head could have unpleasant results.” The woman was quiet for a moment as she twisted the implant in her hands. “But I don’t have the technology to read it otherwise.”

The detective shook his head. “Go ahead, Amari. Not much this ol’ bot hasn’t gone through, so I’d imagine I’m well past any warranty date.”

Anna came forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. She had caught on to the slight worry in his voice. He seemed reassured by this and offered her a small smile before turning to Rebecca.

“Okay,” the vault dweller said slowly, drawing out each syllable. She was concerned as well, but knew that it might be the only choice they had. And if Nick was willing to do it, knowing the risks, she would respect his offer. “Let’s do it, doctor.”

“I’ll have you take a seat.” Amari had gone professional and her tone brooked no argument. Nick did as she asked, sitting in a chair next to the left pod. He leaned back, taking off his hat as he did so. 

“Just, um, pull me out if I start to cackle like an old mercenary, alright?” 

The doctor raised an eyebrow at his joking words, approaching with the implant. She then bent to work, slowly manipulating the circuitry at the back of the synth’s head. “You need to keep talking. I have to know if there is any change in your mental cognition.”

She had started to connect the implant. Nick winced and spoke, his voice hoarse. “I can’t make...sense of any of it, doc. Just a lot of...flashes. There’s too much static.”

“Just as I suspected.” Amari shook her head and disconnected the wires. She stepped away, towards the back counter. “It’s encrypted so that no one can access it. It seems that the Institute has one last failsafe.”

“So where does that leave us?” Anna asked, coming forward again. Turning her attention to the detective, she lowered her voice. “You alright?”

“Just fine,” he replied with a shrug. “Can’t say it’s pleasant having someone tinker with your main circuits, but it was worth a shot. We have a little boy to find.” The scavver smiled at his words and looked up as Amari returned. 

“I was thinking that the encryption can be broken, but not like this. One brain is not enough, so what if we use two? I have two loungers here, and we can use my terminals to hook you up to the implant again. Nick’s brain will act as the host, while another views the memories that I can find.” She gestured to the glass pods before folding her arms over her chest. “We may not get every memory, but it should be enough. Hopefully something we see can help you.”

Rebecca eyed the lounger in question. “I’ll do it. I want to see Kellogg’s memories.”

“Fine,” the doctor said with a nod. “Go ahead and take a seat. Mister Valentine, I’ll need you over here in this one.”

The vault dweller approached the glass pod and drew back slightly as the lid rose with a soft hiss. Inside was plush, a soft chair-like spot to lean back in. With a glance over at Anna, who shrugged wryly, she climbed inside. Settling herself, she looked over to see the detective sitting similarly in the opposite lounger. 

“See you on the other side,” he said with a wink.

The lounger closed around Rebecca and the screen before her went dark. Around her was silence and she could feel the blood rushing in her ears. What was she going to see? She had no chance to think on this, as her vision blurred and turned black.

 

Rebecca felt cold. She blinked open her eyes and found a strange and otherworldly landscape before her. It was shimmering and dreamlike but soon enough this cleared and she could see a scene unfold before her. Amari’s voice, distant but clear, announced that it was the first memory that she could find.

She willed herself closer to the vision. A young boy sat on an old metal bed, playing with a silver revolver as his mom sat to the side. On a wooden dresser beside the bed, a radio hummed away, the reporter’s voice barely audible as he spoke of something called the NCR.

The boy’s mother scowled at this news. She gestured to the gun in his hands and spoke in a low, seething voice. “That is what’s going to keep you safe from now on. You can’t trust anyone.” She paused here and Rebecca could hear another voice, this one belonging to a man. It was an angry and drunk voice. “You’re the man of the family now. That father of yours is worthless. Take that gun and you can keep us safe.”

“Yes, mother.”

“That’s my good boy.”

Rebecca watched as the child sighted down the barrel of the gun, a feeling of discomfort in her gut. This was a child, a young boy. He shouldn’t have to worry about keeping his parents safe. It was their job to protect him. As she had failed to protect her own son.

She looked away from the memory and followed Amari’s directions as another came into her view. It showed a young couple in a dusty kitchen, the woman seated and looking up at the ceiling fan. She looked worried as she spoke of their circumstances.

The young man approached her. He beared such a strong resemblance that Rebecca assumed him to be the same as the boy from the first vision. “Hey, we’ll be alright. I got this new job and will be pulling in some caps. Nothing too dangerous, trust me. Just a lot of standing around lookin’ tough. A few years of this and we can move on.”

“I know, I’m just worried. Just what kind of a life will Mary have?” the woman asked and looked over to the side where a crib stood. “This world is so dangerous. I guess it’s just my mama instincts kicking in, to be this worried. Who knew I had those?”

The man moved closer and knelt by her side. “You’re great with her. We’re all going to be fine, honey.” When the baby started to cry he waved a hand. “No, no. I’ll take care of her.”

The scene faded and Rebecca felt conflicted. This was Kellogg’s story, she knew, and it showed a side she had not expected from their brief and violent meeting. Though she had expected there to be more to him than she had seen, this touching scene left her feeling sad.

What had driven Kellogg to the life she had seen? She wished that she could have known more as, even though she still harbored a dislike towards him for his part in her life, everyone had reasons for the life they led.

The next intact memory showed Kellogg, a bit older, walking down a dimly lit hallway. It reminded her of the basement of Fort Hagen and she followed the scene with interest. The mercenary stalked ahead with grim determination, a rifle in his hands. There was blood on him.

“I hope you know,” a distorted voice broke over an intercom. “They died like dogs.”

Kellogg stopped at a metal door and seemed to gather his courage before kicking in in. Rebecca was pulled away from the memory too quickly for her to see what happened next, but she realized that she had her answer.

The next one showed him seated in a bar, beer in front of him untouched. Three men approached him and offered to pay for his services. He accepted, taking plenty of caps up front as they began to lay out their deal.

And the next, Kellogg stood before a metal desk where a woman in a pristone lab coat sat. Three synths stood behind her, their early skeletal frames bare of any armor. The woman looked up at the mercenary and warned him that his actions were interfering with the Institute. 

He seemed unconcerned. “Well, what if I choose to work for you? From what I hear, the Institute can afford me.” 

“I’m afraid that I can’t make that deal,” the woman replied primly. 

The synths advanced on the mercenary but he quickly disarmed one and shot the others, using the first as a shield. Twisting the neck of the one he held, he regarded their bodies with disdain. “I expected more of a fight. Now can we make that deal?”

The scene blurred and Rebecca felt a headache pounding behind her eyes. This explained when Kellogg had taken up with the Institute, but didn’t offer any insight into her missing son. Amari found another scene and the vault dweller looked upon it with horror.

It was Vault 111. She wanted to pull away, but found herself unable and was forced to rewatch as Kellogg and his team of scientists approached the cryo pod that held Warren. She heard her husband’s indignant cries and her son’s screaming. The gunshot, when it came, was the same as the first time.

Amari broke into the sequence again, her voice sorrowful as she apologized for the vision. She quickly found another, much more recent, memory. 

It showed a small metal shack. Rebecca recognized it as the one she and Nick had broken into and inspected. Kellogg sat to the side, the same scarred and aged man she had seen at Fort Hagen. He cleaned his revolver as a young dark-haired boy played at his feet.

Rebecca felt a jolt of something akin to joy as she looked upon the boy. He had Warren’s nose, his chin. This was Shaun. She had finally found her son.

Through her tears she watched as a brilliant blue light filled the room and a tall man in a leather coat appeared. Kellogg seemed interested as the man approached, looking up and holding out a hand. A file was passed between them and the mercenary began to read.

“The Institute wants you to find him. He is an escaped scientist by the name of Brian Virgil. Last known sighting is at the edge of the Glowing Sea. He carries valuable Institute secrets that cannot be found.” The man’s voice was an even baritone. “Find him.”

“Bioscience. High ranking scientist, damn.” Kellogg continued reading the file, eyebrows raised in surprise. “So, capture and return or elimination?”

“Elimination.”

“Consider it done. I’ll need time, though. Won’t be an easy trip, heading into the Glowing Sea.” The mercenary set the file aside and looked up. The other man had backed away and now stood over the young boy. “You’re here to take him with you.”

“Yes, it is time. Come along, Shaun, you should come with me.” At his words, the boy stood up and, clutching his toy to his chest, approached the man. “Good. Stand right next to me and keep still.”

“Goodbye, mister.” the boy said. His voice was quiet.

“This is X6-88, ready to relay with Shaun.”

The white light returned, zapping down as if from the sky, and the two were gone. Rebecca reeled at the sight, knowing that her son was gone again. Somehow they had teleported away, but to where she could only guess.

Kellogg was left alone. “Bye.”

 

Rebecca pulled out of the memories with the help of Dr. Amari. They had found her son and some more information that could help her connect with the Institute. There was no use of her staying any longer.

The lounger opened, the lid pulling away as she staggered to her feet. Amari reached out and caught her hands, supporting her as she regained her balance. 

“Easy, take it slow. We don’t know what this did to your brain.”

Rebecca heard this and blinked determinedly as she tried to clear her vision. The world spun slightly and she put one hand up to block her eyes. “I need to find Virgil,” she bit out through the vertigo. “He’s in the Glowing Sea. He’s...the only one left who has ties to the Institute.”

Amari helped her sit in the chair near the lounger. “Keep still. This should pass.” She went to her cabinet and rifled through its contents before returning with a vial in her hands. “Drink this. It will help with the nausea and confusion. Sometimes my clients need it after using the loungers, so I keep it on hand.”

Rebecca did as she suggested. She downed the liquid, grimacing at the sickly sweet taste, and handed the vial back. “Where’s Nick? And Anna?”

“They are out front. He pulled out of the memories before you and when he was stable they left. They are waiting for you, but please take your time. No one is rushing you.” The doctor began to examine her, tilting her head gently to the side, lifting one eyelid and then the other. A small bead of blood was visible underneath her left nostril. The scientist tsked and swiped it away with a clean rag and continued with her inspection.

“I am rushed,” Rebecca corrected. “I need to get to my son. He needs me.”

“And leaving here in this state will not help him,” Amari said evenly. Rebecca lowered her gaze at this, realizing the truth in these words. “Now, the Glowing Sea you said? Why would he be there? No one goes there, it’s too dangerous. The levels of radiation alone will kill you in seconds.”

Though she wasn’t sure what the Glowing Sea was exactly, or where it was located, Rebecca could imagine. “Maybe he’s using it as a shield? Surely it’ll make it harder for even the Institute to find him there.”

“Of course! Maybe the radiation even cloaks him from their spies. Brilliant.”

Minutes passed, Rebecca breathing evenly as the vertigo gradually passed. Her headache remained, aching just behind her eyes. When she felt stable enough, she stood. “You have any suggestions for beating the radiation? I have to go there and see if Virgil is still around.”

“You might try a hazmat suit, and carry as much rad-x as you can. Be alert to hostiles as well. I should think that there will be plenty, as that kind of area would be perfect for the bigger creatures to hide.” Amari watched her carefully as she stood again, noting her movements. “Go ahead and go. But come back the moment you have any trouble.”

Nodding, Rebecca made her way back up the stairs to the main room. Irma was gone and all of the pods were empty. It was after hours, she guessed, and moved around the furniture in search of her two companions.

“There you are.” 

Anna clasped her shoulder before pulling her into a hug. “We were worried. Nick here had a bit of a time adjusting, and he’s used these loungers a time or two. Come on over and tell us what you found.”

They gathered by the main door. Nick scooted to the side and made room for Rebecca to sit, and she narrated the main points of her foray into Kellogg’s memories. They watched in curiosity that turned to concern as she mentioned the Glowing Sea and the man taking her son to the Institute.

“Damn, all that way. That’ll take some time to prepare for.” Anna leaned back on the bench and ran a hand down her face. “I have some rad-x and radaway, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough. I don’t think all of us can make this trip.”

Nick looked up at this. “Well, radiation doesn’t really bother bots like me. But you might try and see about letting someone lend you their power armor. That stuff should keep you safe from the rads. Getting your hands on a suit, though...that’ll be tricky.”

“Unless you plan on taking up with the Brotherhood of Steel, and I don’t suggest that.” Anna said this and the three were reminded of the blimp outside of Fort Hagen. “Well, it’s too late to be spookin’ about looking for power armor. I got enough caps to rent us a room at the Rexford. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Nick replied and the two stood up to leave.

Rebecca followed their example and went to join the scavver at the door, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. The hand wrenched her around and she was suddenly face-to-face with Nick. His eyes were narrowed and taunting, lips twisted into a sneer. 

“You think that you’re done with me? I hope you got what you were looking for inside my head,” he snarled mockingly. The voice was not his. His usual bantering tone had been replaced with a distorted, chillingly familiar one. “I was right. I should have just killed you when you were on ice.”

“Kellogg?” she questioned, confused. Nick’s eyes flickered slightly at the name before he blinked and the moment ended. Rebecca hurriedly backed away from him, reaching up to rub the spot where he had grabbed her. “What’s going on here? What was that for?”

“...what?” The detective looked at her in utter confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Anna, who had moved too slowly to intervene, cleared her throat. “You sounded like Kellogg there for a moment. Seems Amari was right.”

“I...did? Damn. She said there might be some leftover impressions from the implant,” he said this for Rebecca’s benefit. He looked decidedly uncomfortable at this news. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I feel fine, why don’t we just go?”

“Not going to happen.” Anna shook her head. Her tone was firm and both Rebecca and the detective knew not to argue. The scavver dug into her pack and pulled out a small bag of caps. Tossing them to Rebecca, she reached out and caught Nick’s hand. “Ev, the Rexford is just around the corner. Can’t miss it, it has a sign larger than life. There should be enough caps there for a room and some food. Nick and I will join you later.”

She gently ushered the synth away from the door. “Come on. Amari said that if this happened to come straight back. Please, we - I - don’t want you to have to go through this.” At her soft words Nick agreed and walked back with her. 

Rebecca watched them go, shaking the bag in her hand. She considered going to the hotel and getting them all a room for the night, but the thought of leaving her friends here didn’t sit quite right with her. So instead of doing as Anna suggested, she settled in one of the den’s plush armchairs and closed her eyes. She could sleep here just as well.

 

“Amari, we’re back,” Anna announced as she and Nick returned to the laboratory. The scientist turned to them with surprise, but at the sight of their faces she frowned in understanding.

At her gesture, Nick took a seat in the same chair as before. “It’s happening already, doc. Is there anything we can do to stop these damned impressions? I can’t just go around with that mercenary in my head. Who knows when he’ll take over? What he’ll make me do?” He was scared, true, but there was also a healthy dose of old fashioned irritation in his eyes. He was indignant.

“There’s no telling how long it will last, or if it will even come to an end. His presence may fade over time, but some things may not. Feelings, strange thoughts.” The woman was thinking, tapping the fingers of one hand on her opposite arm. “I know that this doesn’t sound helpful. I haven’t done something like this before, so I just don’t know. However,” here she paused and regarded the loungers. She seemed to be considering how best to use what she knew to help the detective. “If we can find a way to break the cycle, it may end. The episodes, at least.”

“Worth a try. What do we do?”

“Go ahead and use one of the loungers. I might be able to force an episode using my system, and perhaps using memories of yours, you can interrupt it and cause the whole cycle to crash.” She turned and brought up the screen on the terminal next to the pod. As Nick settled back into the cushions once more, she began typing. “Okay, try to relax. This won’t be pleasant.”

“Doesn’t sound like it will be,” the synth replied dryly. “Go ahead and boot it up.”

Anna watched with concern as the lid to the pod closed. Nick was immobile, eyes shut firmly against the room’s light. She wrung out her hands and started to pace, wondering if this process would work. “Is it working, Amari? Can you break it?”

“I can’t break it myself,” the scientist replied sadly. “I can only try to force an episode and let Nick fight off the impression. As I told him, if he can interrupt the scene with memories of his own, there is a chance. But that’s going to be his fight.”

The scavver nodded. Nick was strong-willed, she’d seen that first hand so many times. She trusted that he would be able to overthrow this metaphorical demon, just as he had so many of the others. 

Inside the pod, the detective felt a strange coldness envelop him. Then he heard the low, taunting voice of the mercenary. “That implant may have been discarded, but I’m still here. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

Hazy visions played across Nick’s eyelids. Fistfights, long nights in the desert, walking alone during the tail end of a radstorm. They were erratic, scenes from Kellogg’s life that must not have been ones Amari had found. Nick could feel them even: the icy coldness of the Mojave, the staticy buzz of the radstorm. Kellogg’s voice narrated for a bit, voice going from nostalgic to angry and back again.

Nick hissed and pulled away from the memories. They faded and left nothing but an inky, almost malevolent, black behind. He remembered what Amari had said and wanted to break the series of memories.

“Oh?” Kellogg replied with a sneer. “You three were so fascinated with me. I’m quite flattered, you know. Dug right through my life. Here, why don’t I show you a more pleasant one? This one is a favorite of mine.”

Searing pain erupted in Nick’s mind. He cried out and twisted away, seeking some kind of escape from the agony that burned like acid. Outside the pod Anna froze and approached him, placing her hands on the glass lid. Amari frowned at the terminal screen as she read the numbers.

“Here they gave me that implant you took. Seems fitting that I share this experience with you, detective.” The mercenary was amused at the situation. “Feel that pain? Those scientists at the Institute didn’t want to give me any medication. Said it would lower my blood pressure too much, and they needed me awake. Such models of progress.”

Feeling something metal digging at the back of his head, the detective could see nothing but white. White, sterile walls. A white lab coat. Blinding light that shone down on him as he lay immobile under the scientist’s ministrations. He recognized some of it, realizing that this was similar to his own memories of the Institute, distant and hazy as they were.

Nick sought to push past the pain. He drew up a vision of his own, thinking of something strong enough to beat the very tangible one he was seeing. The pain sharpened before fading completely as another scene came into view. 

“Choosing to share your own life, are you? That’s fine. We can take turns.”

The Red Rocket truck stop came into view, a single lantern glowing steadily in the dark. The smell of fresh coffee filled the still air, and Nick followed it to the mug held in Anna’s familiar hands. It was a night several years back, when she had just moved away from Diamond City. He had chosen to visit her, missing her greatly and wanting to see her again.

She heard his footsteps as he approached. Setting down the mug, she turned to him and held out her arms. “You made it. Wasn’t hard to find me, was it?”

“I’m a detective,” Nick reminded her with a grin. “And I know you too well.”

The mercenary interrupted the scene with a laugh. “Cute. It won’t last, of course. One of you will die and leave the other alone.”

Unwilling to let Kellogg take back control, Nick thought of something else. A small, resilient hubflower blossom near the river. Starlight falling through the thin veils of clouds. The scene of a crime that had left the prewar Nick Valentine destroyed and the postwar one at a loss. 

“You weren’t even sure who you were. Are you any more sure now?”

Kellogg sounded weaker now, though no less angry. The vision changed suddenly then and came to rest on a bloodsoaked stretch of highway. A body lay no far off, back riddled with holes. The mercenary stood over it, red staining his boots. He had taken this contract for the caps it offered. It was nothing he hadn’t done before.

Nick wrenched himself away again, pulling up one last memory. It was of a small farming settlement, where a few kids stood around him. Jim, he recalled with fondness, was laughing with great humor. And after a bit a few of the adults joined the children in meeting him. They took him in and offered him shelter for the night. Treated him like he was one of their own.

The timing had been correct, and Kellogg remained silent. The cold that gripped Nick eased a bit, though he still felt wary and unbalanced. Perhaps Kellogg was gone, or at least that direct manifestation of him. Or if he wasn’t truly, forever, gone...well, Nick now knew how to put him down.

The memory lounger opened with a hiss. Amari referred to the terminal and then reached out to check the detective. “His systems are online and functioning. There was some stress there, but I think it’s over. Kellogg’s control may have just been a fading echo, or Mister Valentine managed to destroy him. Either way, we’ll have to wait until he wakes up.”

Anna was glad for the update. She moved closer and sat on the edge of the pod, reaching out to cradle the synth’s cheek. “Thanks, Amari. I’ll stay with him and let you know when he wakes. You’ve helped us all out so much today, you deserve some rest.”

The doctor smiled at this. She checked her charts one last time before leaving the room, running a hand through her hair as she did so. 

The scavver turned her attention back to the detective. He was unresponsive, but she could feel the warm hum of his inner circuitry under her fingertips. Her smile was sad and she pulled up another chair next to the lounger to wait.

 

“Hey, what’d I miss?”

Anna picked up her head, rubbing her forehead sleepily. She had passed out and her head had fallen to rest on the side of the lounger. The metal frame wasn’t the most comfortable pillow she had ever used, she thought with a rueful grin. Her fingers traced the faint imprint it had left in her cheek.

“Well. I appear to have gained a new scar. Might start a trend around here.”

“It looks bad. I dunno, you might even scare away the folks around here.”

The scavver laughed. “Seems that you’re alright, then. Glad to have you back, Nick.” She yawned then, sitting up straight and twisting her back. She checked the clock that rested on the nearest cabinet. “It’s not quite morning yet. You want to head out and find somewhere more comfortable to stay? Ev’s probably waiting up for us at the hotel, so we should hurry along so she can get some rest. God, does she need it.”

The detective pulled himself from the lounger and swept up his trademark hat. Pulling it on he grimaced as his body protested his quick movements. Though he was a synth, and therefore more resistant to the damage that would cripple a biological human, the actuators and couplings in his body were not fond of mistreatment.

“Lead the way,” he said and nodded towards the door. They left the room together and made their way back out front. Since it was still too early in the morning for business, the main foyer was dark and quiet. Only a few lights remained lit, the faint pinkish glow falling over the plush furniture and public loungers. The detective’s eyes fell on one of the armchairs and he let out a chuckle. “Looks to me like our friend didn’t make it to the Rexford after all.”

Anna followed his gaze to see Rebecca leaning back in the chair, legs stretched out. Her face was slack in sleep, eyelids flickering as she dreamed. “I think she’s got the right idea. I don’t fancy waking up the hotel’s owner at this time. Besides, it’ll save us some caps.” She sank down onto the loveseat next to it and sighed. “Have a seat, Valentine. Might as well.”

“I don’t sleep,” he protested.

“Just sit down.” The scavver patted the seat next to her. “We’ve all been through a lot, and it sounds like there is more down the road.”

Nick rolled his eyes playfully before settling down next to her. “Might run some diagnostics. Don’t get the chance to out there.” He seemed to be saying this to himself, so the woman let him be. When he was comfortable, she shifted and leaned back towards him. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and he smiled fondly as she tucked herself in to sleep.

Taking advantage of the security of the building, Nick closed his eyes and ran his system scans. Not only was it true that he didn’t often get the chance when he was out of the office, but his system was screaming at him to after his foray with Kellogg’s implant. His body stilled and there was no sound in the room except for the faint clicks from his internal computer and the humming of the den’s power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit longer than the others but I decided to break it off there. I was reading through Kellogg's voice files and discovered the part about his cybernetic implant. They didn't give him any medication because it would lower his blood pressure and so the data would be wrong. Ouch.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by and as always, feel free to comment below if you see mistakes or you have any suggestions. Have a great week.


	7. Chapter 7

Rebecca heard the sound of heels clicking on tile. Lifting her head, she blinked the drowsiness from her eyes to see Irma straightening the main room. The lights were still low, but this didn’t seem to bother the woman as she went about her work.

“Must have slept well enough,” the vault dweller mumbled to herself and sat up. She scrubbed her hands over her face and drew back at the sight of the blood on her clothes. “Jesus. I look a mess.”

Irma caught on to her words. “We have a laundry room, sugar. You’re welcome to use it.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca’s reply was automatic. She smiled at the other woman before glancing to the side. There sat both of her companions, still with slumber. “Oh. Guess they stayed here too.” She chuckled at the sight. Nick was leaning back into the couch, one hand resting on his lap and the other curled around a sleeping Anna. Said scavver was stretched out, her back against his side and legs over the arm of the couch.

“Suppose that answers a few questions,” she said with a knowing look.

Soon enough her companions stirred, Anna from her sleep and Nick from whatever diagnostic he had been running. Anna was groggy but ready get moving. “We have to talk to Dr. Amari quick, then we’ll join you,” she said and then they disappeared downstairs.

Rebecca nodded a farewell to Irma before heading to the laundry room she had mentioned. There she quickly disrobed and tossed her soiled clothing in the washing machine. While it worked, she found a sink and some soap. She helped herself to a spit bath, trying not to shiver in the chilled air. She scrubbed away the mud (and blood) and watched with satisfaction as it was washed down the drain. Though the soap was unscented, it did its job admirably and soon even the residual smell of sweat was gone.

When she was finally clean, she dug through her pack and pulled out the spare set of clothing Anna had insisted she take. The jeans were a bit too long in the leg, so she folded them carefully before tucking them into her leather boots. The shirt fit well, its fabric sturdy and soft with use. “Just a few days in and I’ve already ruined two sets of clothes,” she muttered and checked on the progress of the washer. “But I haven’t lost any limbs yet, so that’s something.”

Wincing at the thought, she paced back into the main foyer. Patrons had already filed in, several of the pods closed and occupied. The nearest one housed a bald man who, Rebecca noted with curiosity, wore his sunglasses still. She shrugged and left the patrons to their business.

“May I join you?” She approached Irma, who was seated on the dias like the day before. At the blonde woman’s nod, she took a seat in the chair next to her. “So, tell me about this place. These pods are memory loungers, right? How do they work?”

Irma waved a hand, revealing red nail polish. “People come here to experience their memories. Some wish to relive them, and others are more interested in finding something. Something that they’ve missed. Time passes by us so quickly, and before you know it the moment is gone.”

Rebecca felt a lurch in her stomach at these words. Her prewar life was over. Though she often wished it, in the short time since the bombs, she could not go back in time. But maybe, once she found her son, she could make part of her family whole again.

“I don’t know your story, and I won’t ask as it isn’t my affair,” Irma said. “You’re a haunted woman. Those memories are still with you, wherever you go. Some are good ones. Others are painful and you wish that you could remove them.” The woman leaned forward and reached out to pat Rebecca’s hand. “If you ever want to use our services, sugar, you’re more than welcome. But first I think you should finish your adventure.”

Rebecca wasn’t sure she wanted to use the loungers. Though she missed her old life and her family, the thought of living them again made her uncomfortable. They were in her past for a reason, and she was afraid that, if she did choose to go back and see them again, she would not want to ever leave.

She nodded her thanks and sat back to wait. It wasn’t long before Nick joined her, greeting her quietly and finding himself a seat. “Anna’s downstairs,” he said by way of explanation.

“So what’s next?” the vault dweller asked.

“Now that’s up to you. This is your story. You want to find some power armor, or a hazmat suit of some kind, we’ll help you do so. You got something else in mind, that’s fine too.”

At the last sentence, Rebecca frowned. “Something else? Like, go into the Glowing Sea with no protection?”

“Well, I hear that you stand a chance of getting superpowers.” The detective shrugged then, rolling his shoulders tiredly. “Rebecca, however you decide to approach this is your decision. Our lead seems to take us there, and it’s true that there isn’t too many choices here. But this is your show and we’ll stand by you.”

“Right. Honestly, I don’t even know where to start.” The woman sighed but didn’t want to burden their hosts with her mood. They had done enough to help her and she was simply grateful for that. “Well, first I could use some breakfast. Where is the best...restaurant in Goodneighbor?”

This had the detective chuckling. “Not really any restaurants anymore, but there is a bar here. Don’t usually recommend it exactly. The drinks are strong, though, if you’re plannin’ on getting drunk,”

“Charlie will set you up with a proper drink,” Irma added. “But not much else.”

“Let’s see what I can find, I guess. Not a good idea to walk back to Diamond City on an empty stomach.”

Anna had arrived at this point, pulling on a fresh jacket. This one was a pale brown and lined with a soft-looking darker fabric. “Laundry is done,” she offered and tossed Rebecca’s pack at her. “Sure feels good to be clean again. Thanks, Irma. You guys always come through for us.”

“Of course. Take care you three.”

The group left the Memory Den into a dark, drizzling day. Following Rebecca’s plan, they headed down the subway steps to the Third Rail to see about something warm to eat. The vault dweller wrapped her arms around herself in the underground chill, looking at the subway tunnel with interest.

“They really converted a subway into a bar?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Makes you wonder about all of the others. How many have collapsed? And do any still run somehow?”

“I’m not sure which is worse. Honestly, I’d wonder who got the rails running again, and why.” Nick tipped his hat at the gentleman standing at the top of the staircase. Music, soft and slow jazz, floated up from below. “Mornin’, Ham. Just here for the bar today.”

The man, a friendly ghoul that wore a carefully ironed suit, smiled. “Go ahead. Magnolia’s set to play soon.”

They descended the stairs and Rebecca looked out over the furnished space. It was a large section of the aforementioned subway tunnel, blocked off by rubble and fences. Old couches and round dining tables dominated the space, while a room off to the side was blocked as VIP only. A corner was devoted to a musical stage, several men tuning instruments while a woman wearing a sparkling red dress warmed up the audience. At the far side of the room was a bar, stocked high with enough booze to knock out the entire room. Tending to the bar was a familiar sight.

“Is that...General Atomics?” she asked, gesturing to the robot behind the bar. “They made so many of them. Bots designed to help around the house. Oh my god.” She reached out and braced her hand on the chair nearest her. “Codsworth. I’d forgotten all about him.”

Seeing the puzzled faces of her friends, she explained. “He was ours. Our butler, I guess you could say. Warren bought him not long before Shaun was born. He was so good to us...and we left him behind. I hope he’s okay.”

“He lived with you guys, out in Sanctuary?” Anna asked curiously. She seemed to be thinking of something. At Rebecca’s nod, she brightened. “I’ve seen a Mister Handy around there a time or two. Usually stays around the same house. Now, I’ve never spoken to him so I’m not sure, but could he be who you’re thinking of?”

Rebecca stared in shock. “You mean...he might be alive?”

“Sure,” the scavver replied. “I mean, ones like Whitechapel Charlie here are plentiful. All prewar. They’re pretty hardy, I hear. General Atomics must’ve done something right, at least in their physical construction.”

“I should go back, then. Soon, when I get some things straightened out.” Though she wanted to see Codsworth, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to see her like this. She felt a mess, and had no answers. Facing him so soon frightened her. What would he think?

 

The group settled at the bar and Whitechapel took their orders. He seemed to be annoyed that they didn’t order any drinks to go with their meal, and served them distastefully. Rebecca resisted the urge to roll her eyes but somehow found his behavior slightly charming. She ate the food without complaint, though it wasn’t anything great.

They sat through several of Magnolia’s songs and she let the soothing music put her at ease. The situation reminded her of a date she and Warren had gone on, early in their relationship. An open mic night, a bit of alcohol, and plenty of greasy food. She smiled fondly at the memory, staring down at her finished plate until the end of the song.

“You ready, Ev?” Anna asked, nudging her shoulder. She had caught on to the somber mood that had enveloped her. “Let’s go find us some power armor, right?”

Rebecca was grateful for her wordless understanding, and her discretion. She waved a hand and paid for the meal, claiming that it was her idea to come here. “And,” she said. “You bought me those noodles the other day. I have to make it on my own someday.”

Together they left the Third Rail and headed back into the drowsy morning.

 

The group ended up electing to return to Diamond City. By early afternoon they had made it and relayed the information to Ellie. The young woman was shocked at the information and expressed concern for their next step. She knew of no power armor suits available, and no hazmat suits that had passed through the city.

“Well that settles it.” Though Rebecca felt rushed, she knew that there was nothing to be done at this moment. Until she had the proper protection, she couldn’t put one toe into the Glowing Sea. “We keep our eyes and ears out. The moment we have one, we make plans for the trip. Until then...I’ll make myself useful here.”

She spent the rest of the day helping out around the agency. No new cases had come in while they were gone, but there was always more to do. Old cases to look into, paperwork to file, dust to clean.

“So,” Anna spoke up. She and Ellie were working together to straighten out some unruly cardboard boxes. “Jeez, Nick. You keep half the city in this box?” she asked, interrupting herself. She hefted it into her arms and carried it across the apartment to join a few others that needed to be looked through.

The detective, having rolled his chair over to said boxes, looked up from his work. “Hey, now. I’m sorting as we speak.” He held out a folder, shaking it slightly. “Besides, you never know when something from a past case will help the next. And this old brain can’t keep everything straight anymore.”

“Some of this needs shredded. Personal information, of course.” Ellie set aside a few folders for that reason. “But sometimes you just have to sit down and actually go through it.” She looked over to the detective pointedly, as if this was an old argument of theirs.

“How else to make room for more?” Anna gestured to the boxes still to be sorted with a flick of her wrist. She turned to look at Ellie as she went back to work. Her voice turned curious. “I meant to ask, Ellie. When Nick went out on that case, and didn’t come back, why didn’t you contact me?”

“I tried, but no caravan was going that way. None of them would take a bribe either, not that I have too many caps to spare. Honestly, I probably waited too long before trying anyway. Figured Nick would make his way back.”

“I told you, I always do.”

“Not this time you didn’t,” Ellie countered. “I know sometimes cases take a while. Maybe his search for Malone took him out of town. We really need to get that radio fixed and properly set up, so at least I could have tried to reach Nick.”

“Yeah, even with a radio, getting me would be hard.” Anna read a file and added it to the shred pile. “The truck stop is so far away. Part of the reason I chose to move there. But the damn radio doesn’t pick up too much.”

“The distance was a problem, yeah. Maybe someday we can get the parts to boost our signal. But still, I waited too long hoping that Nick was just held up, and then no one would take you a message.”

“Well, it worked out in the end. Rebecca here is to thank for the timely rescue.”

The vault dweller rolled her eyes at Anna’s over-the-top dramatics. “I just needed to hire him,” she said and tossed her head with exaggerated sarcasm. “Nothing noble here.”

They worked in quiet companionship for several hours, passing boxes or files with a comment or two. Rebecca grew restless as the afternoon came to a close, but apparently so was everyone else as Nick called for a break. “No use keepin’ at it tonight. None of these are going anywhere, at any rate.”

As they set aside their work and piled it for another day, Rebecca slipped out of the apartment. She wandered the streets for a while, seeking to burn off the energy in her limbs. She was getting closer, but she was still so impossibly far away. The only chance she had was a scientist who may or may not still alive. And even if he was, he was nearly untouchable.

She heard the hawking cry of a paper girl. Snapped out of her downward spiraling thoughts, she looked up to see a girl of about twelve years standing on a milk crate. She was shouting and waving a folded set of papers. Her chin-length hair was a dark brown and she wore several layers of mismatched clothing. The family resemblance was clear.

Rebecca stepped up and took one of the offered papers. Scanning the front page she saw the reporter’s name and a wry grin tugged at her lips. “Piper’s handiwork,” she mused and remembered the request for an interview. “Hey, you’re Piper’s sister, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” the girl replied before continuing to wave the paper at passersby. She looked down again when Rebecca didn’t leave. “She wants to talk to you, really bad. Says that you’d make a perfect story. Fresh from a vault and seeing the world for the first time. She’s inside. You should go in and see her.”

Chuckling at the girl’s insisting tone, the woman did as she suggested. She knocked lightly before opening the door and walking inside. “Piper?” she called, looking around at the space. Publick Occurrences, as both the paper and the building were named, was a Diamond City staple. “Piper, it’s me. Rebecca.”

A rustling sound caught her attention, followed by a clatter and a curse. She walked over to find the reporter in question, hat askew as she crouched to pick up what she had dropped. Piper looked up in surprise, eyes narrowed until she recognized who stood before her.

“Finally made it,” she said with a smile. “You ready to give me that interview?”

“Sure, why not? I’ve got some time.” Rebecca frowned at the words, as they had sounded a bit short, and stooped to help the other woman collect her belongings. Pens, pencils, and random collectables covered the floor. She stood with her arms full and handed them off as the reporter placed them back on the shelf. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Just a sec.” Piper stood for a moment, glancing around as if searching for something. She snatched a small notebook from a nearby table and pulled a pen from the glove on the back of one hand. “Ah. Okay, why don’t we take a seat?” Leading the way over to the main living space, she gestured at the worn red sofa.

Rebecca sat down and faced the reporter. “I’ll be honest. It’s been a while since I’ve been interviewed. And before it was usually statements for record books, or official legal matters.” She thought of the crowds of reporters outside the courthouse on several occasions, her gaze on the kitchenette before her.

“Hmmm,” Piper murmured aloud, shifting and flipping to a clean page in her notebook. She looked up as this sank in, confused. “You worked in some kind of court system? How?”

“I used to be a lawyer. Took some time off to...when I got pregnant. Firm wasn’t exactly fond of having a pregnant lawyer representing their brand.” Her voice was bitter here and she waved a hand. “But I planned on returning, once Shaun was old enough. Never could stand sitting still.”

The reporter jotted down some notes, nodding slowly. “Not sure what firm you mean, but we’ll get to that. Well,” here she paused and scratched something out with her pen. “I have just a few official questions. Just something about a newcomer’s perspective. First question: You said that you came from a vault. We all know about Vault-Tec and the places they built before the war. What was it like inside?”

“I…” Rebecca reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “Honestly, I don’t really have any interesting information about life inside it. I was frozen...or something for most of it. I’ve been told it was cryogenic sleep.”

Piper wrote fast, her handwriting sloppy. She raised her head at this last bit, eyebrows raised. “Whoa. They boxed you up, like in a fridge? This whole time? So you’ve been down there...since the bombs?”

“Yes. I’m apparently over 200 years old.”

“Well, that explains a lot. A prewar relic,” the reporter said and leaned back on the sofa. Her eyes showed a great deal of mischief. “No. Oh my god. The Woman Out Of Time. That’s much better. Next question: Did anyone else make it out with you? Or do you know anyone here already?” She was referring to anyone else who had a way to have survived the many years.

“My son made it out. I think. He was kidnapped while we were in those pods. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. And they killed my husband.” The unpleasant memories came forth again, but she refused to give them her time. They had taken enough out of her already. “I’m looking for him now.”

Piper’s face fell. “Damn. I’m sorry, Blue.” She wrote this all down, shaking her head. There was a brief pause before she decided to continue. “So. You’ve seen this new world. The Commonwealth, Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?”

Rebecca thought about this for a while. Though the world was vastly different, and nearly unrecognizable to her, she couldn’t fault it. It was no one’s fault that they lived in such conditions. The war had done this, egotistical people who didn’t think before they hit the button that said LAUNCH. “I see the people living out here. Making their way just like people always have. So, yes it’s not the same as I remember, but there’s so much hope here. Hope for a better life. Just...hope for a future. People are rebuilding their lives and I think it’s great.”

“That’s...inspiring, Blue. I am definitely quoting that.” Piper closed her eyes and when she opened them there was a respect visible therein. “I agree. There are so many people out there that need help. So many that just need a hand. A lot of crooks and crazies, but that’s another story. Alright, for the last part of my interview I want to do something different. I want you to make a direct statement to the city.”

She looked down at her notebook. “The threat of kidnapping is ignored in most of the Commonwealth. Everyone wants to pretend it doesn’t happen, but everyone knows someone who has been kidnapped or gone missing. So, Blue, what would you say to someone out there who has lost a loved one? Someone who’s too scared, or too numb, to go and look for them?”

“Don’t lose hope. No matter how hard it seems or how much you want to give up. Trust that you’ll see them again, or that...at least you’ll know the truth.” Rebecca looked away at this, unable to meet the reporter’s eyes. This was something that she found herself repeating to herself. She couldn’t lose hope that she’d find Shaun. Or, if she didn’t, maybe she would know the truth about his fate.

“Thanks, Blue. That’s a strong note to end on, and one that I think a lot of people can share. I appreciate you coming down here, really. I wanted an outsider’s view on the world, and I think you’ve given us something to really hold on to.” The pen scratched against the paper as the reporter wrote. She leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, sighing. “I think that some people will take heart from your words. Maybe they won’t be so scared or so alone anymore.”

Rebecca willed her tears away again. She wasn’t sure what to say to that so she remained silent. When Piper was done taking notes, she folded the notebook closed and set it aside. The pen was returned to its spot on her wrist, beside several others sewn into the glove.

“Blue.”

Piper met her gaze, the mischief returning to her eyes. “Want to know why I keep calling you that, huh? Well, you may not be wearing the vault suit right now, but it’s obvious. I mean, the fish-out-of-water look is a dead giveaway. You’re still adjusting, though, so don’t take that the wrong way.” She seemed to rush out this last bit, her face reddening. “I mean...oh forget it. Can I get you anything while you’re here? Wanna head over to the noodle stand?”

They left the building, Piper waving to her sister and telling her to stay out of trouble, and headed over to Power Noodles. “So, how long have you been here now?”

“Almost a week. I really can’t believe it’s been that long already. And...at the same time so much has happened in that time.” Rebecca sat at the counter and paid for her noodles. She hunched over them, chopsticks in her hand. “Never thought that a lawyer with a newborn would end up here. I’m still getting use to it, like you said. Adjusting.”

Piper sat next to her. “The Commonwealth isn’t exactly the easiest place to get your bearings. Can be a real tough place. If you ever need me to watch your back, you just say the word.”

“Thanks, Piper. Well, you wouldn’t happen to know of a spare set of power armor lying around, would you?”

“Nope, sorry.” The reporter looked curious. “What do you need that for?”

“It’s where I need to go. Evidence points to the Glowing Sea.” When Piper’s face paled, she grinned humorlessly. “I know. There is someone out there, I think, that can help me find my son.”

Their food remained untouched, steaming in the evening air. Piper regarded her suspiciously, frowning at this news. “What a story. Traveling into the heart of ground zero, where the radiation will kill you faster than you can say nuclear. So, what is it? I already have a story from you, don’t worry. What would possess you to travel there? And who could even survive there?”

Rebecca glanced around at the crowd. No one was watching them, but she spoke quietly anyway. “Let’s just say that the people behind his kidnapping aren’t exactly common thugs. Yes, now you understand. The only lead I have is a man that’s hiding from them. I have nothing else.”

“The Institute,” Piper breathed. “Hoo boy. Absolute monsters, I say. Is there anything I can help with? I heard that you’ve been hanging around Nick Valentine, so I’m sure you’re set, but…”

“I don’t want to drag anyone else into this.”

“I understand. I’ve been tracking these creeps for over a year now, and really don’t have a better understanding that I did when I started. So I get your hesitation. But the offer still stands. I’ll do some research on my own, in any case.” The reporter finally turned to her bowl and began to eat. She sat comfortably on the metal stool, leaning over the counter and ankles crossed. Her eyes were distant, as if she was deep in thought.

Rebecca did the same, savoring the warm food in front of her. So far, this was her favorite place to get a meal in the new world. When she finished the bowl, she spoke again. “I hate the waiting. I need to do something, but can’t.” She set her chopsticks down carefully, taking a moment to hold on to her composure. “I’ve always been like this. Unable to sit still when there is work I can do.”

“Kinda like me. Always on the move.” Piper stood and took their bowls over to Takahashi, bantering with him for a bit before returning. “I should get back. Nat’s probably gotten into the cabinet again, she loves all that prewar junk food. Not that I don’t, of course. Hey, you need a place to crash?”

Rebecca smiled at her honest question. “Wouldn’t mind saving the caps it’ll take to rent a room.” She said this with a shrug. It would be nice to save her caps for now, as she wasn’t sure when she’d get more. The pay Ellie had given her wouldn’t last forever, and between renting rooms and buying meals (not to mention ammo or stims), she’d run out soon. “Just let me stop by the agency and let them know.”

Piper nodded and waved, promising to keep the door unlocked.

Rebecca stepped back inside the agency to see the other three relaxing. Ellie was leaning back in her chair, an ancient book in her hand. Nick was continuing to go over files, a cigarette perched between his fingers. And Anna was laying on the floor, reaching out and ruffling Dogmeat’s collar with a laugh.

“You’re back,” Ellie commented as she looked up from the book. “We thought you’d gotten lost out there.”

“If by lost, you mean over at Publick Occurrences. I remembered that Piper wanted an interview, so I wandered over. Needed to get up and talk a walk anyway.” The vault dweller leaned against the wall. Dogmeat wandered over to her, tail wagging happily, and she crouched down to roughhouse with him.

“Don’t let her get you into trouble,” Nick advised.

Anna chuckled at this, resting her hands on her stomach and rolling her head to the side to view Rebecca. “Actually, who knows. She could help us. She is only second to you when it comes to being an expert on the Institute.”

“Exactly.”

“No, no. I told her not to get involved, really. Got enough of that. Though, she did offer to do some more research.” Rebecca stood up and caught the detective’s eye roll. “That predictable, is she?”

He waved his hand, smoke twirling around his fingers. “In a good way. Piper’s one of the only people I know that actually cares about the state of this place. Gets herself into some real tight spots just for trying to spread the truth. She’s someone you want on your side.”

“She’s also got quite the set of ears, and I mean this metaphorically. If she hears of something that can help us, she’ll let us know.” Anna sat up and reached out for Dogmeat again, sinking her fingers into his fur. “I assume you’re calling it a night?”

Rebecca had yawned. She covered her mouth sheepishly. “Yes. I’ll see you three in the morning. You too, buddy.” She waved and turned to go, finding her way back to Piper’s house. In the end, the reporter handed her a pillow and blanket, urging her to make herself comfortable on the sofa by the door.

The vault dweller did so, stretching out and listening as the two sisters talked quietly about Nat’s day. Like the agency, this apartment was cozy and inviting, if a bit crowded with the printing press and other bits of machinery. Piper eventually left the blocked-off corner that was Nat’s room, turning off the main lights before heading upstairs to her own. The apartment was dark, and Rebecca drifted comfortably to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment below and have a great week.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day Anna set herself at her desk with the agency’s radio, grimly tinkering with it. She was determined to not only fix it, but to significantly boost its signal. “I can’t hear it at home,” she said as she resolutely dug out a small screwdriver. “And I suppose it’s time I actually repair it.”

The others found things to keep themselves busy as well. Rebecca helped Ellie straighten out some more files before heading out into the city to find work. As she wasn’t sure how much a hazmat suit, or a set of power armor, ran for these days, she wanted to save up her caps. 

Nick had pointed her towards a bulletin board that often held bounties, over by Moe’s store. “You could check those out,” he said, flipping open an old folder. “Not a bad way to make some caps, if you’re up for it. Mostly taking out ferals that have taken up near the city, or fetching something for someone.”

So the vault dweller stood before the bounties, reading the scrawling words on each of the scraps of paper. “Ferals,” she muttered with a grimace. “He was right. Ferals just outside the city. Oh, and someone wants help with their generator. I’m no mechanic, so I guess it’s ferals. That sounds like fun.”

She pulled the scrap down and turned on her Pip-Boy. Navigating to the map screen, she pinpointed the location and added it. “Abandoned apartment complex. Honestly, clear that out and you could make it livable, provided the floor is stable enough.” The reward, if she cleared out the area and took the contract to the mayor, was 500 caps. More than enough to buy several stimpaks.

Rebecca checked her ammunition. She had chosen to leave her one rifle behind, as she had few bullets left for it. That left her with her 10mm and the Institute rifle. Perhaps these ferals would give her some good target practice, even if she found that thought cold. She needed to practice her skills at firing a gun and surviving outside the walls of the city. If she was going to live here now, she had to get better on her own.

She strapped her armor into place, buckling it tight. Anna had warned her of how quick ferals could be, and how painful their bites. If you got caught in a group of them, you better hope your armor held.

And she had plenty of gauze, some antiseptic, and a few stimpaks. If she did get hurt, which she was betting on, she would be ready to treat her own wounds this time.

Outside the city she followed her map to the location. It was early morning still and she was wide awake, straining her ears for sounds of disturbance. She remembered some of these alleys from before the war, but as many of them were barricaded, buried by rubble, or otherwise changed, she took every precaution.

The apartment in question was one of several, looming over the block. Its windows were broken in and dark and she could hear nothing from inside. She approached slowly, crouching low in hopes of avoiding detection so early.

She eased open the door, holding her breath as it creaked in the still air. Of course it had to creak. It had probably gone 200 years without repair or oiling. Pausing to make sure nothing stirred at the sound, she pulled out her laser rifle and flicked off the safety. 

The apartment was dusty, the faint sunlight that fell through the open windows illuminating what fell from the ceiling and what gathered in the corners. “Well, let’s hope that this is just regular dust,” she muttered to herself. She feared the dust-like fallout from the prewar pamphlets, but as her geiger counter remained silent, she figured that it was safe enough.

She stood in a front hallway. Ahead of her was a door, possibly to a small bathroom, and to either side an open room. To her left a kitchen, her right a living space. A railing was visible just around the doorframe, evidence of a staircase in the living room. 

Rebecca crept towards the left, knowing that the kitchen would be easier to secure. She also wondered if there would be any provisions left, or if the ferals had already ruined what had been there.

It was not long before she heard the sound of scuffling. Peering around the remains of the kitchen’s wooden door, she spotted a feral with its back to her. It was the remains of a woman, tattered blouse still clinging to her chest. She crouched and picked at something on the floor, her head lolling slightly.

Frowning, she lined up the shot and pulled the trigger. Perhaps this was a mercy.

The feral went down, the burn spot visible between her shoulders. It was a nasty sight, the skin blackened and cauterized. The vault dweller counted this a victory, but the sounds of frenzy above her head had her moving across the kitchen to take shelter.

Something stumbled down the stairs, steps erratic and heavy. Rebecca paled at how quickly these creatures moved, holding out her rifle. Words could not prepare someone, she mused as she crouched there. Only experience could.

The feral was followed closely by another. Both approached the kitchen, having followed the sound of her shot. Rebecca could hear the breath rattling in their lungs, the sound dry and heaving. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she waited, willing her hands to still.

As the first came into view, she fired. The laser struck the feral on his shoulder, and he reeled back into the wall. The second, dodging around the first, scrambled towards her. Rebecca threw herself to the side and kicked out, instinct taking over where experience left off. Her foot missed, but the feral’s momentum carried him a bit too far and he struggled to his feet. As he turned, she fired again.

The acrid smell of charred flesh filled the air. Combined with the stench of rot and decomposition, it caused Rebecca to gag and cover her mouth with her sleeve. She backed away as he collapsed, turning her attention to the other. Her next shot missed as he dove out of the way, coming at her from below. 

Her scream was cut off as she landed on her back, her shoulders and elbow striking the tile floor. The feral snapped his jaws as he crawled up her legs, sunken yellow eyes fixed on her. She writhed, seeking to throw him off as she moved to get pressure off her elbow. Her boot caught him and she pushed at his stomach, the flesh giving with a grotesque crunch.

A hiss came from his gaping mouth. He twisted again and one hand lashed out, knocking the woman’s head to the side. She blinked past the pain to see the feral’s dessicated body looming near, blocking the sunlight as he sought her throat. 

Helplessness threatened to overcome her, but she pushed it away. She had faced a number of synths before. She had faced Kellogg and won. What was one feral?

This bravado only got her so far. The welts in her cheek were on fire and she could feel the blood oozing down her face. And her elbow felt useless, her arm numb with the shock. 

Pain lanced up her legs as his fingernails, uneven and chipped, ripped through the exposed cloth of her pants. She let out a hoarse cry and rolled, unseating the feral as she scrambled away. She raised herself to a kneel, dark hair falling from the braid she had woven earlier.

“I’m not going to be your dinner,” she bit out and raised the laser rifle with her good arm. She cradled it and pulled the trigger as the feral drew near. The blue light of the laser lit up the ancient kitchen and the feral collapsed with an inhuman screech. The fingers, now stained with her blood, twitched as he lay there in repose.

Rebecca eyed the feral, expecting him to rise. When he did not, and the body became still, she heaved herself to a stand. Her body shook with adrenaline and this took her past the pain. She made sure to check the other two ferals and listen for other sounds. Satisfied she was alone, the woman found a ragged ottoman in the living room where she sat wearily.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t know this would happen.” Her words were grim as she set aside the rifle, leaving it within easy reach. She had expected this. Going out alone after a pack of ferals wasn’t without its dangers. What if there had been more? But, she reminded herself as she pulled her pack out in front of her, she had to get used to this world. 

The Commonwealth was a dangerous place now, where one wrong step meant death. And if she couldn’t learn to travel by herself, how would she ever survive? There wouldn’t always be someone to escort her, and damned if she would always be dependent on someone else.

She had a hard road ahead of her. And she had to be strong for it.

Her hands dug into the pack and pulled out the antiseptic. She applied it liberally along the cuts in her leg, wincing at the burning pain, before wrapping some gauze around the wounds. They weren’t deep, fortunately, but she did not want to risk infection. 

She repeated these steps to the scratches along her cheek before applying a stimpak to her shoulder. She felt the cooling relief flood her system and sat in silence for a few minutes to catch her breath.

“Contract’s done,” she mused with some wry amusement. She then scoured the apartment for supplies and found some bottlecaps and an old (surprisingly intact) pair of pants. Hesitant to change clothes, thinking of the state of the apartment, she tucked them into her pack for washing.

When she was steady enough to make the trip back, Rebecca left the apartment and headed back towards Diamond City. She had a slight limp, but it was one she reckoned would disappear by the next day. And though she resolved to do better next time, and perhaps approach ferals a different way, she found herself pleased. She could navigate to a location and handle a few hostiles by herself. Maybe in time she would be wasteland material.

The thought was sobering. The wasn’t her world anymore, really. She belonged to a world long gone, destroyed by atomic fire and aged by two centuries. She was the only survivor of a town lost without record and a vault that had failed to protect its inhabitants. There was no way she knew to go back, no matter how hard she wished it. 

 

“There. Flip the switch and let’s see if she works.”

Ellie did so, peering at the radio and twisting the dials as she searched for signal. “It’s up and running,” she said as she did so, brows furrowed as she worked. “Now let’s see if we can find anything. That’s...that’s the city’s station. It works!”

Uncertain, stumbling words filtered out of the radio, the sound warbling as Ellie tuned the signal. “What’s Travis reporting on?” Anna asked, peeking up from her place tucked against one of the desks. She had been working on the back of the radio before plugging it in, securing it to the apartment’s generator. 

Ellie paused to listen. “Sounds like news from the northwest. Concord. I’m not sure what he’s referring to. Isn’t that place a raider hotspot?”

“Yeah, last I knew. I wonder what’s going on up that way. Well, I’ll need to check my radio back home and see if I can connect these to. Maybe I’ll take a peek.” The scavver extracted herself from her place, grimacing as she squeezed between the desk and a filing cabinet. “I think I boosted it. That part that I bought off Arturo fit perfectly. Now we just have to see if it works.”

“True. Take care of yourself out there, you don’t want to get tangled up with that mess.”

Anna shivered at the thought of getting caught by that many raiders. She had explored Concord once, as she had told Rebecca, and resolved to never do it again. The few days worth of provisions (and the handful of wonderglue bottles) she had found had not been worth it. They had cornered her in one of the ruined houses, and if it hadn’t been for a literal hole in the wall she would have been killed.

“Nope, none of that for me. We should probably make sure Ev has this station in that Pip-Boy of hers. If she ever needs to contact base, anyway.” She dusted off her hands on her jeans and took a seat at her desk. “Speaking of. She’s been gone a while.”

“She must’ve found a contract on that board. Gosh, I hope she’s alright. Sometimes they take you far out of town after a nest of stingwings or such.” 

Anna hummed in agreement, wondering which such contract had taken her new friend’s fancy. The scavver had completed plenty herself, years before when she was living in the city. Rent had not been free, and though she earned caps working as Nick’s partner, it wasn’t always enough to keep the lights on. “I’m sure she’ll manage. She’s new but she’s a hell of a survivor.”

The two fell into silence as they worked. Anna sifted through a new case that had been brought in that morning, pouring over it as Nick went hunting for information in the market. It was about missing (assumed stolen) belongings and the familiarity of it make her chuckle. Whenever someone suspected their neighbor of stealing, they either called the guards or the detective. Depending on their trust in either, of course.

“Well, we can guess that there’s...marital problems going on here.” The woman’s voice was dry. “From what she was saying, there’s no doubt. She suspects that something is seriously wrong with her husband. Some of their belongings keep disappearing and she can’t figure out where it’s going. She said someone could be stealing some of it, but doesn’t know who. I’m with Nick on this one. This isn’t just a case of theft.”

“I think he’s right, too. This has the signs of something else. The client mentioned some kind of change recently.” Ellie came over and they read over the notes together. They seemed to match her words, as it seemed that Nick had already added that into the list of clues. “Her husband comes from the upper stands but some disagreement ended that.”

“Oh, well that’s comforting. So he used to have connections but got kicked out. I wonder if that has anything to do with the case, or it’s just an interesting backstory. So, what could it be then? If I was kicked out I’d be stressed and upset. People turn to a lot of things to cope with that kind of heavy stuff. Not all of it healthy.”

“You think he’s got some kind of vice?”

“I’m not saying anything with certainty, but I wouldn’t rule it out,” Anna replied with a shrug. “Have the caps from living up there and then they just dry up? Or he could just be lashing out at the injustice he felt he was dealt. Did she mention how he was acting?”

Ellie straightened. She ran her fingers along the file, tilting it on each corner as she did so. “Acting very strange. Short temper and irrational. He gets angry over very little and it seems to her like he’s hiding something. She wanted our help finding out what that is.”

The door opened then and both women looked up from their conversation. Nick had returned from his own investigation. “You come up with anything yet?” he asked, eyeing them closely.

“This isn’t theft,” Anna said. “I think you’re onto something in your notes. Did you find Reuben? What did he say?”

The detective moved to his desk and leaned against it, contemplative. “Yeah, caught him at Power Noodles. Looked pretty rough. I asked him if he was alright and he acted like I’d come to arrest him. Calmed him down a bit after that. I didn’t exactly interrogate him ‘cause I didn’t want to push him away.” He stopped and sighed before continuing. “My gut says this is a dangerous scenario. Liza had a friend she mentioned while she was here. I think we should pay him a visit.”

“Fair enough. Keep that radio on, Ellie. We’ll take one of these,” Anna said and grabbed one of the smaller ones they kept for traveling. She turned it on and checked the signal, making sure she read the agency’s signal clearly. Donning her coat, she pulled it tight and dropped the radio into one of the pockets. She decided to take her rifle as a precaution. “Let’s get going. We’ll call if we have news.”

 

“Back on a case,” Anna remarked idly as she and Nick tracked down Liza’s friend. A member of the Diamond City watch, he lived alone on the far side of town. They asked the other guards few questions and found that he was currently stationed outside the gate. “There Carter is now,” she added, nodding towards the man standing watch.

“Let’s have a little chat, then.”

They approached the man. He looked up and his face fell when he recognized them. “Detectives,” he said with a frown. There was a resigned looked in his eyes, as if he had expected them. “I knew it wouldn’t be long before you came to find me. This is about Liza, isn’t it?”

“We just have a few questions,” Nick said evenly, falling easily into the role of investigator. “You know about Reuben, right? What can you tell me about him? Anything odd, or out of character? Anything you know can help us figure this all out.”

Carter sighed and pulled off his helmet. “I’m not sure there’s any chance of helping him at this point,” he began. He ran a hand through his sweaty blonde hair, stalling for time to think. “He doesn’t want our help. We’ve tried to get him to tell us what’s wrong, or to get him to talk to some kind of professional, but he just isn’t interested. He gets all jumpy too, like he’s going to get into trouble or something.”

That matched what they already knew, Anna thought to herself. “So there’s something he’s doing that he knows is wrong. Is there anything else?” she asked. “Any new places he goes, or people he meets?”

The young man hesitated for a few moments. “I don’t know anything for certain, and as far as you guys know, I know absolutely nothing. Reuben’s a friend of mine too, and I just want him to get some help.” He glanced around and then tilted his head to the side to indicate a direction. “I have seen him head out of town late before. Several times. Always heads that way and comes back a while later. Can’t say where he goes, and I’ve never tracked him. But you know that there’s a lot of raider hotspots around here and when they don’t kill you for your pocket caps, they try to peddle you some nasty shit.”

“I see,” Nick said and glanced over to lock eyes with Anna. The investigation had taken a darker turn and they could both guess what kind of goods Carter meant. Raiders were not regulated by anyone except for their own bosses, and they were known to manipulate others into their plans. If Reuben had been approached by one of them, there was no telling how deep he was. “Thanks for your time, friend. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Great. I’m afraid of what he’s gotten himself into and at this point it’s like he’s hellbent on destroying himself. Liza’s caught in the middle and so she’s moving in with me to get away. Until this blows over, we’re keeping our heads down. Good luck, detectives.” Carter turned away and continued his watch of the alley. The point was clear, and the duo decided to leave him alone.

“You up for some old school tracking?” Nick asked with a thread of wry humor. When Anna nodded he lead the way in the direction Carter had indicated. “Alright. You know how this works. Stay quiet and let’s see what we can find. Hopefully we just get enough evidence to figure out what’s going on. If it is raiders, or some other group selling chems, I don’t want to get caught in their territory.”

“Only so much the guards can do, though. Even if they do something, another group will take over. You know that.” Anna had little patience for raiders or anyone selling drugs to vulnerable people. If that was what they were up against, she didn’t see it ending well. The guards could get involved and even clear it all out, but another gang would eventually take over. She she wasn’t keen on walking straight into their den. “Let’s just see what the hell we’re even up against before we make any decisions. It could be a lot simpler than we think.”

“I hope you’re right.”

 

The den in question was an old warehouse. The detectives had spotted suspicious activity outside the building and had decided to look further into it. Finding a stack of old shipping crates, they had climbed to the roof and peered in through the filthy, grime smeared windows onto the floor below.

A few hanging bulbs shown down on the concrete floor. It was crowded with crates and old prewar machinery rusted with age. A small living area was set up off to the side, a cooking station set up in the center of a ring of chairs. The smell of some kind of stew wafted up from the station and Anna would have gotten hungry if she wasn’t so concerned about what was actually in the stew. 

“It seems we found our...suppliers.” Nick’s voice was low as he crouched next to her. 

“Right,” Anna said and peered at the crates. “Well, it’s not like those crates are going to say what they have inside. Chems of some sort, you think?” At her companion’s grim nod, she chuckled humorlessly. “And here them come now.”

They watched as several people came into view. One sat at the cooking station, reaching out to stir whatever was in the pot. Another collapsed into a chair, laughing and toying with something in his hands. The flickering light revealed it to be a silver statute of some kind. From the look of it, Anna could guess that it was solid metal and worth quite a few caps. Or nice scrap, if melted down properly.

Two others approached a metal cabinet off to the side. The woman in the front unlocked one of the drawers. She pulled out a box and opened it, revealing three modified syringes. “Just got this new shipment in,” she drawled. “A bit more powerful, they say. One hit and - holy shit - you can take on the world. Take your pick.” 

She held the box out towards the other person. He reached out, shaking fingers visible even from the rooftop. She snapped the box shut with a cruel laugh, just missing his fingers.

“You think I’m just going to give this to you? You owe us yet.” She withdrew with a sneer and waved for the others to join her. They leapt to their feet, hands reaching for their guns with lethal promise. “We’re going to get the money out of you one way or another. This is a business, and a business can’t operate until you pay up.”

“Please,” the man said. “You told me - “

“Shut up. You’re so fucking gullible it’s great. You took this shit when I offered it to you back in the city. Down on your luck and needed something to take your mind off it. You chose to buy our chems when you knew you couldn’t pay. Idiots like you keep my gang going. You come to me for a hit, and when you can’t pay I take all your shit and sell it off. I get paid either way, you see, and there’s always another sucker to take in.”

Anna swallowed her disgust at this woman’s so-called business. It was true, she would get paid either way. Either in caps or in goods she could pawn off to someone else. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d raise the price. So she gets away with money and an innocent’s life gets ruined. Anna refused to believe that this kind of operation was standard in the Commonwealth, though she had seen it before. People were better than that. People had to be better than that.

The woman closed the box carefully and returned it to its place in the cabinet. “I see you still have that ring. Gold, right? Probably worth quite a few caps if I sell it to the right guy. Grab him.”

One of the other snatched Reuben's wrist and forced his hand out, spreading his fingers wide. Reuben struggled but couldn’t break free of the raider’s hold. 

Anna acted on instinct. She squeezed through the broken window and let herself fall onto a crate below. Her boots slammed onto the wooden surface, the sound drawing everyone’s attention. Nick followed behind her, hand straying to his revolver.

“What the fuck?” the gang leader demanded. “Just who in the hell are you?”   
Anna met her gaze with a smile. “We’re detectives. Now, if everyone could just hold on a moment, we can talk this out I think.” She moved quickly, scrambling down to the warehouse floor. She knew her actions had caught them off guard but that their shock would not last long. “I hear this man owes you some caps. But you targeted him when you knew he couldn’t every pay. It seems that you’re both in the wrong.”

“This ain’t your business,” one of the men snarled.

“Well this man hired me, so I believe it  _ is _ my business.” The scavver folded her hands before her, trying to conceal their shaking. Though she had faced worse, and probably would in the future, a potential firefight was never easy. People could die, and the raiders she faced would not hesitate to shoot. “What’s the total, then? We can work this out. Nobody has to be cutting off anyone's fingers.”

“Listen to reason,” Nick added sternly. He stood at her side, shoulders taut with strain.

The woman was taken aback by the suggestion. Her eyes narrowed as she looked between the two. “I don’t want your fucking caps. I want him to pay what he owes me.”

But wasn’t it the same, either way? Caps were caps. Anna fought the urge to roll her eyes at the woman’s cruel insistence, as it wasn’t the time or place for it. 

“You want violence,” Nick corrected. “Look, from where’ I’m standin’ you have two options. Take the caps and we can all put this behind us. Or you can continue the path you’re on and we get nothing but bloodshed.”

The woman glared at him, twisting a knife in her fingers. She looked down at it as she considered the offer. There was a deadly silence in the air, as if someone had locked them all in a vault and now watched the experiment unfold with glee.

“Can’t say I’ll get too far in a fight,” the woman hissed at last. She eyed their weapons and then glanced over to her cohorts. “I see the heat you two are packing and I ain’t stupid. Not worth my time, anyway. There’ll be more like this. So pay me my fucking money and then I’ll let this dumb fuck go.”

Anna winced at the amount of caps but handed them over regardless. Reuben was released and carelessly dropped to the ground with little care. “Everyone’s happy?” the scavver asked pointedly. “You got your caps and even a bit extra. You let this man go and go back to your business. We’ll leave you to it.”

Nick threw her a glare that said  _ If I didn’t trust you, I’d say you’re outta your mind. _

Without waiting for the raiders to reply, Anna stepped forward and hauled Reuben to his feet. He was sweating profusely, skin cold to the touch. She dragged him back out of their reach and thought that she’d count them all lucky if they were able to leave.

“We have your word, then?” 

The gang leader snorted impatiently, digging her fingers into the bag of caps. “Fine. Get out of here, now. Don’t come back here. I see your face ever again, I’ll pull the trigger.”

“Deal.” Anna turned around and, gripping Reuben’s arm like a vise, lead the way out of the warehouse. Nick followed closely behind, eyeing the raiders warily.

Outside they made their escape. When they were far enough away, Anna pulled Reuben in front of her and sat him down on a concrete wall. “Alright, what’s going on here?”

The man wilted under her icy stare. “I don’t know...oh god...I’m dead.”

“Well you better figure it out,” Nick said. Like Anna, he was not pleased with the situation. “We were sent out to find out what’s going on and where all your belongings went. Seems like we have our answer, doesn’t it? So you want to straighten it all out?”

The silence was overbearing and the man wilted further. “Jesus, it’s true. I was in such a low point and I refused all help. Liza and Carter both...they offered so much to me. Wanted me back. I just refused it and when that lady offered me chems I took it.” He looked up at them and his eyes were sunken in his face. “I need another fix soon, can’t you tell?”

“Christ, let’s get him to the doctor,” Anna said and helped the man back to his feet. He needed immediate attention and any interrogating could wait. She ducked under his arm, stumbling slightly when all of his weight fell towards her. Nick moved in to help, taking his other side. “When he’s better, he can tell us more.”

They moved fast, all but dragging the man towards Diamond City. Anna wondered how long it had been since his last hit. She knew little of chems, having tried none of them herself, but knew that they were dangerous and easily addictive. She also worried about the belongings that he had given to the raider gang, but knew that they were trivial in comparison to his life.

Inside the city they worked their way towards the clinic. Several people moved out of their way, eyes wide as they watched them pass. A guard went to stop them, but at Anna’s impatient warning, he backed away and escorted them instead.

The clinic was open when they arrived, the doctor taking inventory of his stock. Nick called out as they approached so that by the time they climbed the steps he was ready. Between them the man now sagged, each breath coming shallow. They lowered him into the chair, stepping back when the doctor waved them away.

He began to examine the man, lifting his eyelids and shining a light the gauge the reaction. “What happened?” he asked as he worked, his movements quick and methodical.

Anna spoke quietly. “Addict. We’re not sure what all he’s attached to.”

“I see.” The man pulled out several instruments and a peculiar syringe. “Addictol first. Fluids to keep him stable. I need to flush his system. When did he start showing signs?”

“I saw him earlier, a couple of hours ago at least. Kinda jittery but still plenty coherent. Just now he started to act this way, doc. Less than ten minutes, I’d say.” Nick recounted the man’s symptoms, his face frank. “Sweating and shaking. Cold to the touch.”

The doctor administered the addictol and Reuben’s shaking subsided slightly. His eyes blinked open blearily and he reared back when he sighted them. “No! Get away. I - “

Nick and moved in and helped the doctor restrain him. Together they tied his wrists and ankles with some old rope the doctor kept, securing him so that he didn’t hurt himself. He stared at them blankly after they were done, face drawn with fatigue. 

“I need a fix. Jesus, I don’t have the caps. They’ll kill me.”

“Calm down son,” Nick said and crouched down to his level. “You just sit tight and let the doctor help you, alright? Those people won’t bother you again.”

An IV went into the man’s arm and fluids dripped from a bag the doctor set up. His head fell forward, chin resting on his chest. “I’ll take care of him. You two can go and finish your case,” the doctor said and waved them away and they left the small clinic.

Nick glanced over at Anna as they walked away. “Nice talking back there. Never seen a group like that go down easily.”

“I’m just as surprised as you,” the scavver replied with a shrug. “If we’d been a few minutes later…”

The detective reached out and squeezed her shoulder, catching on to her worry. “We can’t blame ourselves. We got there when we did and that’s all that matters in the end. C’mon, let’s go and find Liza and let her know what happened.”

They tracked the woman down to the house she shared with her husband. She and Carter were working together to move a sofa towards the door. She invited them in instantly, the furniture left alone for a moment. Her eyes were wide with shock and she implored them to speak.

“Did you find him? Is he alright?”

Nick held his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. “Reuben’s at the clinic, being taken care of as we speak. Doesn’t need visitors right now but he’ll come to soon enough. You can talk to him then, if you want.”

Liza looked relieved, but it was measured. “Good. I’m glad you two found him. Thank you.” She sat heavily on the sofa and leaned forward, her hands knotting together. “Maybe this’ll be a wake up call for him and he can get himself together. Did...did you find out what happened? Carter told me you brought him in and that you’d gone after what he thought was a group of raiders.”

“We did. He...was sold some chems and owed them some caps. It’s been paid up. They won’t bother you again.” Anna eyed the furniture and then glanced back up at the woman. She suspected that whatever happened now would be up to them. Liza would still likely move, and the scavver couldn’t blame her. Chems or no, it was volatile place to be.

Liza looked up at this. “Chems. Not a surprise, but damn. I won’t ask what you did to persuade them to leave us alone. People like that only seem to respond to force or money. And I’m sorry you two got dragged into our squabbles. Reuben was a good man, once. Those thugs must’ve sniffed around and offered him something to take the edge off his pain. Now look where we are.”

She had gestured to the apartment. It was unkempt and cluttered, boxes of supplies piled together near the door. “I can’t stay here anymore. I hope he gets well, and maybe someday we can...be friends again, but right now I can’t trust him.” She gave a rueful laugh and stood up again. “Here, your fee and a bonus. Thanks again.”

Liza handed them a box of caps, insisting that they take it. She waved off Nick’s concern, smiling genuinely. “We’ll be alright. I’ve got plans for myself and once he’s clean he can remake himself. You two did your part.” When Anna took the box she returned to the end of the sofa and nodded for Carter to help her move it. “Goodbye, detectives.”

Anna tapped her fingertips on the box as they stood outside her apartment. She suddenly snorted a laugh, startling her companion. “Thought it was just a case of theft. You know, ‘open and shut’ as you love to say. Go and get the missing items, bring in the thief with enough evidence. The whole deal.” She sighed then and looked over at him. “Turns out the thief is actually related to the client, and just trying to pay up his debts due to chems.  Pretty typical though, isn't it?”

“Sounds about right,” Nick remarked with a grin. “You’re a hell of a partner to have at my back, y’know.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it any less true.” The detective winked and she rolled her eyes at his unabashed teasing. “I’m glad just to have you at my side.”

Checking back at the clinic, they found Reuben stable and sleeping. The addictol had helped to clear his addictions, and although he would still need work (both physically and mentally) the doctor assured them that he would make a full recovery in time. Satisfied with that outcome they left him be.

Anna reported the raiders outside the city to a trusted member of the city watch, who assured her that they were already looking into it. Carter had tipped them off before and they were doing their own investigations into the trade of chems. It was unregulated and unsupervised by anyone of knowledgeable authority and as such posed a threat to the citizens living nearby.

They found Rebecca seated in the chair in front of Nick’s desk, nursing a cup of coffee. She had bandages on her face and leg, and was leaning back wearily. Her eyes widened at their appearance and she hastily sat forward.

“Ellie tells me you went out on a case?”

“And I see you got yourself into trouble.”

She waved her hand at Anna’s words. “I earned some caps, and some confidence. Took out a few ferals too.” Her fingers touched the bandage on her cheek lightly and she winced at the obvious sting. “You were right. They move faster than I expected.”

“You’re lucky,” Nick commented and took his usual seat. He took note of her injuries. He was not angry or upset, only reminding her. “So where did the bounty take you?”

“Apartment complex just outside town.” Rebecca leaned back again, her fingers curling around the steaming mug. There were bags under her eyes, but whether they were from stress or fatigue Anna didn’t know. “I only found three of them. So, yes. Very lucky.”

Anna sat on the surface of her desk, setting aside the box for counting. The caps would go into the agency’s safe for later bills and paychecks. “That’s not surprising. Those buildings are often full of them. Well, good work I say. You took them out and only got a few scrapes. Now you know what ferals are like and will be ready next time.”

“And I can get some supplies for myself. Namely, rad-x. Did you close the case, at least? I hear it got complicated and you had to move fast.”

Nick answered this time. His voice was subdued as he told the story to her and Ellie. “We got it all sorted out and they can handle it from here. He’ll get the help he needs, and maybe someday they’ll work it out.”

Rebecca shook her head at the story, her eyes downcast. “I suppose that’s good news. That sounds like a rough place to be though, and a rough case to tackle. I’d know, I used to be a lawyer. Sounds like so many cases before the war. Some things just don’t change.”

The mood in the agency was somber then as they all continued their work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite this one a time or two. Not really sure about it, but here it is. I'm also not an expert on detective cases.
> 
> Either way, thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you want and have a great week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca heads out in search of a rumor, one that takes her back out to Boston Common. In meeting the Railroad, she realizes that maybe this is the way she can get into the Institute. Perhaps in order to get help, she has to help someone else first.

Rebecca scuffed her boot over the red paint. She frowned and looked back up at the sign, reading it aloud to herself. “Follow the trail to freedom’s end. I’m guessing this is it?” She wondered on this as she stood there, her eyes snagging on the lanterns clustered around the sign. It was a signal, that much was obvious.

It was the next day and after a night of fitful sleep, one that had left her laying awake on Piper’s couch for several hours, she had left in search of another bounty. On the way across the marketplace she had overheard two men discussing the possibility of someone taking out the Institute. This had piqued her interest so she had settled at the noodle stand to eavesdrop. One had mentioned a fabled Railroad organization. Apparently they helped synths and were of little concern to the two men. She, on the other hand, had decided to look into it. Maybe they could help her get inside the Institute.

Rumor was, you could follow the Freedom Trail to find them.

Avoiding getting closer to the pond for fear of whatever lurked within, she set her sights on the red line and started walking. She had prepared her pack for a day’s exploration and felt the weight of a few stims, some food and a canteen of purified water, and more ammunition against her hip as she walked.

 

The church loomed above her, steeple standing strong despite the centuries. “I suppose that’s fitting. Sanctuary, after all.” She looked around and noticed a small sigil painted beside the heavy wooden door. It was a lantern in white, with a tiny flame flickering inside. The sight was reassuring, as it matched the lanterns at the beginning of the trail. This was the place.

“The line leads straight to this place, so it isn’t exactly a secret,” she muttered and entered the building. She wondered why it would be so obvious, but then remembered that the trail had gone on for quite a while. It had passed several dangerous areas, and was even chipped, covered, or completely missing in others. It wouldn’t be easy to follow, and all but the most determined would have given up long ago.

The church was dark except for a light trickling down from the ceiling. She looked up at the ragged hole in the roof where the beams had splintered apart. Below, the room was completely wrecked. The pews were overturned or destroyed, a majority of the floor covered in rubble. At the front of the room, the altar was buried under fallen beams.

The silence that engulfed the room was not sacred or beautiful as one would imagine (Rebecca had never been much of a churchgoer), just a lack of sound. It beckoned her to explore.

The main room yielded nothing. There was nothing worth salvaging and she dared not move the wreckage for fear of it collapsing on her. She set her sights on the basement then and made her way down the steps.

They led to a large expanse of crypts and she shivered at the sudden cold. The graves were disturbed, several skeletons resting on the hard soil. Rebecca reached out before yanking her hand back. These bodies probably weren’t victims of the atomic war, but they had been displaced by it regardless. She moved on, trying not to dwell on such a dark subject.

She walked cautiously through the catacombs, one hand against the wall for support and the other resting on her laser rifle. Ferals could be living down here, and though she had fought a few before she had no intention of repeating the performance so soon.

At the end of the tunnels she came to a strange medallion set high on the wall. It had wires poking out of it, running along the walls and disappearing into the ceiling high above. She reached out and touched it, running her fingers along the words. It was no end, she realized with a grin. It was a door.

Rebecca could not discern the edges of the door by sight or touch. Instead she turned her attention to the medallion and began inspecting it. She found that the ring of letters spun and she did so, wondering what kind of passcode would open the door.

She tried each letter, spinning it determinedly before pressing hard in the center. Minutes passed and she felt herself losing her patience before finally the letter R clicked. The sound reverberated deep in the brick wall and she allowed herself a small cheer.

“Okay it starts with R,” she said and resigned herself to testing the next letters. Soon enough, she could guess what she was trying to spell. “Railroad? Why would they - oh, nevermind. I’m sure that, if they don’t kill me, I’ll find out here in a minute.”

At the final press of the medallion, the wall shook. Dust enveloped her and she coughed, holding her sleeve over her mouth and nose as the wall seemed to peel away. Brick by brick, it folded away and revealed an even darker corner of the catacombs. She decided to leave her rifle at her hip, safety on, and risked stepping into the opening.

 

“It seems that no raiders have broken in,” Anna said quietly as she surveyed the grounds of the Red Rocket station. She was suspicious and could feel Nick’s eyes on her as she moved around in search of hostiles. He walked in the opposite direction to help secure the building. When they realized it was completely quiet, she relaxed. “Nothing. Good, just how I like it.”

Nick offered her a smile and they entered the small truck stop. Dogmeat pushed between the detective’s legs and the door, eagerly trotting inside and exploring. Unbalanced by the canine’s enthusiasm, he laughed and reached out to catch the door frame. “Seems he’s happy to be home, too. You are two halves of one tough whole.”

“Don’t leave yourself out of that equation, Valentine.” Anna followed them inside, catching his eyes. “You two are both my family. One small but happy family.”

She tossed her bag onto the table by the door and leaned against it to pull off her boots. With a sigh she let them fall with a soft clatter, wriggling her toes with relish. “Oh, that’s a long walk. Never gets shorter. These feet need a rest.”

Nick made a sound of agreement. She glanced up to see the question in his yellow eyes. “Nah. You know I’m fine. Just want to sit down a spell and get a cold Nuka-Cola.”

When she went to find said bottle, the detective waved a hand. “Take a seat, doll. I’ll get ya one.” He moved down the small hallway, lighting the lanterns as he went, until he reached the small cooler she had set up at the end. It and her water purifier were some of the few things hooked up to the generator. She didn’t have the fuel to use a larger one and so power was limited.

Anna padded back to her sofa and tossed her three teddy bears to the back before sitting down. She hooked a finger under the band of her socks and peeled them off, folding them out of habit and placing them on the floor to be washed later.

Dogmeat had already left, likely sniffing around outside she reasoned. She leaned back into the couch, closing her eyes as she took in the familiar quiet of the truck stop. She was home again and it felt great. Though spending time in Diamond City, among her friends and able to get fresh supplies, was not without its charm, this was where she belonged.

Nick joined her in the back, his footsteps bringing her out of her thoughts. “There we are,” he said softly as he handed the bottle to her. His metal fingers brushed against hers.

The sun shone just above the horizon, its rays warm and bright. Their journey from Diamond City had not been rushed as the only plan had been to check Concord. They had spent the walk collecting fresh ingredients for Anna’s food stores and scrap for future projects. She thought of the wonderglue and duct tape in her pack with glee, knowing that the adhesive they provided would serve useful for what she had in mind. And the fresh mutfruit and razorgrain they had managed to harvest could be dried and stored for a later meal.

“Today was productive,” she said with a sigh. The words were obvious and she closed her eyes again, taking a long sip of her drink. The bubbling soda was as refreshing as the prewar ads claimed and she silently thanked whoever had invented it. “What do you think of the situation over in Concord, Nick? No raiders. Alive, anyway. A dead deathclaw? You think they got attacked by it?”

Settling himself beside her, Nick was quiet for a moment. “No,” he said finally. “If that were the case, you’d think there would be survivors. Someone had to have lived. And raiders don’t usually do well against deathclaws, so what killed it? They were all gathered in front of that museum, too. I think it was something else.”

“Fair point. I say we investigate some more tomorrow. That particular case can wait until then.” She finished her Nuka-Cola with a flourish and set the bottle on the coffee table. There sat some clean dinnerware, the ones she used frequently enough that she never bothered to find a place to store them. “Alright. We know that these mobile radios work already. Now for my main one.”

Pulling the small radio out of her coat pocket and placing it on the arm of the couch, she stood again. She opened the door to the back office, long ago repurposed into her bedroom, and walked over to the desk against the back wall. On it was an old terminal and beside it a set of metal shelves she had made. Not one for hacking terminals, she had still found its inner workings fascinating and had spent some time digging through its circuitry. So she couldn’t work the programming. At least she understood the hardware.

The shelves were full of some of her favorite books and keepsakes, as well as her radio. It was an old thing, battered but still stubbornly clinging to life. She reached out and flipped the switch and let it sweep for any serviceable channels.

“Oh!” She called for Nick and he joined her, leaning over her shoulder as she carefully tuned the signal. “I’m getting something. Yes! It worked. That’s the agency’s number.” She turned the volume up and grabbed the receiver, calling out to Ellie.

“Anna?” Ellie’s voice was faint but clear. She let out a whoop of victory and started to laugh. “Great! We’ve got it working. I’ll send plenty of thanks over to Arturo for the suggestion. So you guys made it alright, then?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Anna rattled off the channel number for her radio and Ellie could be heard digging for a piece of scrap paper to scribble it down. “We checked out Concord as well. Some raiders apparently tried to break into the museum but someone managed to fight them all off. And, on top of that, we found a deathclaw - “

Ellie interrupted with a horrified gasp. They weren’t a favorite of anyone’s.

“No, we’re alright,” Nick replied quickly. “The deathclaw is dead. Was dead, should I say. Whoever beat all the raiders must’ve taken it out as well. We’re gonna do some poking around tomorrow and see what we can find out.”

“If they take out raiders and deathclaws, they’re good in my book,” Ellie responded with feeling. “Just watch yourselves, alright? They must have some serious firepower.”

“Oh, no doubt. We will Ellie and we’ll contact you tomorrow to let you know how it all goes. You keep Piper in line, will you? Don’t want her locked out again. And Rebecca, when she gets back from her exploring.”

“Sure will. You guys take care.” Ellie signed off and Anna turned the radio off.

The woman stood back and a content smile softened her features. She peeled off her coat and draped it over the back of the desk chair, rolling her shoulders. It had been a long day of journeying. She turned to see Nick leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze met hers and his hand reached out, knuckles gently smoothing out the last lines of worry.

“You worry so much about others that you forget yourself,” he spoke. “C’mere. Let me take some of it off your shoulders.”

Anna moved into his embrace. He was warm and solid, and smelled a mixture of smoke and steel. The steady hum of his internal clockwork was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. She wound her arms around his waist and was pleased to hear the resulting sigh.

“I’m not the only one who does that, you know,” she said and leaned back slightly in order to see his face. She remembered several instances where he had driven himself into the ground to help another. Some of those moments were ones she shared. Though he knew his limits, Nick was someone who didn’t rest when there was help he could give. It was one of the things she loved about him.

Nick shrugged and offered her a lopsided smile. “Well, someone’s got to look out for the Commonwealth.”

“I can picture it now,” Anna said, sliding out of his arms and waving a hand. “Two shadowy figures summoned by the needs of the people. That sounds like something out of those old Silver Shroud radio shows. Fighting crime and defending the good guys.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve taken a liking to that show.”

“What?” Anna turned around innocently. “I’ll have you know that their outfit’s badass. So what if the shows are scripted and dramatic? I happen to like it. Give me all the shitty tropes, I say.” It was true, she adored the theatrics of the Silver Shroud broadcast. She had to admit, the prewar filming industry could do some interesting things when it came to radio or television. “If my radio could pick up that signal, you better believe that I’d listen to it here.”

Nick made a sour face and she laughed. “Maybe another day I’ll look into it. Right now, I need to get something to eat. And if Dogmeat hasn’t found anything himself, he’ll come begging.”

She led the way out of the small office and headed towards her cooking station. There wasn’t much to use, as she had used up all the meat she had. There was old boxes and cans of prewar food, but much of it was junk anyway. Though she loved the sweets she knew better than to make a habit of choosing them for dinner.

“He’ll beg anyway,” Nick corrected lightly, taking a seat at the counter. He pulled out a cigarette and looked to her for permission.

“Go ahead,” she said as she turned towards the stove. Though she appreciated him asking, as technically it was indoors, there was enough ventilation that the smoke wouldn’t stick around along. And she wasn’t keen on taking that away from him when she was about to eat in front of him. Nick tried not to smoke inside if he could help it, though there were moments (usually caused by stress) where he ignored that rule. Only in his own house, of course, and she and Ellie never bothered to correct him. “Yeah, he probably will. Now, where he went is another mystery.”

Soon enough she had pulled enough food together to make a passable meal. As expected, Dogmeat had returned and promptly sat himself near her, his eyes trained on her food but having the grace not to misbehave. With an amused laugh, she reached out to scratch the dog behind his ears.

“Don’t try to fool me, Dogmeat. I can smell your breath. You’ve eaten...something already and this is mine.” The dog huffed at this and stretched out, resting his chin on his paws. Though tempted to give in to his face, she knew it was pure acting. “Quite the charmer I see. Let me finish and then we can go play.”

Anna felt that she had been neglecting Dogmeat a bit, since meeting Rebecca and making all those harried trips across Boston. It had been too long since she had just sat and played with him. He loved playing tug-of-war with and old strip of leather, and he had his own teddy bear that he often carried around. The poor thing, wherever he had left it, was worn from all the chewing.

“You want to join us?” she asked Nick as she cleared away her dishes. The detective looked up at this and smiled. “Alright, Dogmeat. Let’s go!”

 

Eyes watering in the sudden light, Rebecca stared in shock. Two people stood on the far side of a small room, a brilliant light at their back. One was a stocky woman with styled silver hair, her coat thick with armored reinforcements. In her arms was a large gun, its spiral chamber and unmistakable design that of a minigun. She held it easily, glaring over at the newcomer with clear suspicion.

The other was a taller woman who held no weapon, though a modified pistol hung off one hip. She stepped forward, lifting her chin so that the light caught on her amber-colored hair like fire. There was a pride in her bearing, one of leadership and harsh experience.

Rebecca held out her hands, palms up to show that she was not armed. True, she was, but both her 10mm and that Institute rifle were safely holstered.

“You’ve obviously put a lot of effort into finding this place,” the lead woman said. Her voice was smooth and carried easily. “Not too many would do the same. And we did not contact you. So,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest and inspected the vault dweller from head to toe. When her eyes caught on the two weapons, something akin to rage flickered. “You have 3 seconds to explain yourself. Now.”

“I’m Rebecca.” Rebecca tried to keep her voice even and polite, but it was difficult when both women stared at her with thinly concealed dislike. The second one readjusted her grip on the minigun, dark tawny fingers moving slowly. “I heard a rumor about the Railroad and how to find it. I followed the Freedom Trail from that lake out in the commons.”

She took a breath. Her words had not eased the tension in the room, and she could see why. “I think I understand. Look, if this isn’t the right place to be, or the right way to “contact” you, I understand. You’ve probably got a lot on your hands already.”

The lead woman blinked slowly at this. Though her face was still dark, mistrust in her eyes, her stance had relaxed somewhat. “Just who the hell are you?”

“Nobody, really.” There was humor in Rebecca’s voice now. “I’m new here, to be honest. I’ve been staying with some friends in Diamond City after having...well, I’ll just say it. I came from a vault. Cryo sleep. So this world may be the same place as before the war, but it sure isn’t the same experience.”

Both woman showed surprise, but it did not dissuade them. “I see,” the first commented. She eyed the laser rifle thoughtfully, and this seemed to decide for her. “I fail to believe your story, when you carry such a weapon.”

“This?” Rebecca glanced over to the Institute rifle and it dawned on her. She looked over to the others and noticed how tense they were, as if seconds from attack. Hurrying to explain, she kept her hands in plain sight. “Oh. Well. Bringing that with me was not the best idea I’ve ever had. I’m no Institute agent. I got it fighting off a few of theirs - “

“Deacon?” the other woman interrupted. She turned to a man standing off to the side. He leaned against the brick wall behind him, head tilted as he regarded Rebecca. Sporting an unremarkable outfit, he would have gone unnoticed in most crowds. What was curious was his sunglasses. Rebecca raised an eyebrow at either his need for anonymity or his desire to be humorous. She supposed it was the former, due to the reactions of the two women, but something about him screamed the latter as well. “What are you doing here?”

He pushed away from the wall and spread out his hands. “C’mon. You throw a welcoming party for Rebecca here and you don’t invite me? That really hurts. I thought you cared.”

Rebecca watched the exchange carefully. The lead woman seemed less than amused by his words, her eyes narrowed shrewdly. The other woman had lowered the minigun slightly but still kept a watchful eye out.

“Fine. I want your intel, then. Who is this? If you know so much, tell me everything about this newcomer.”

“Hey, newsflash. This lady is a huge deal out there.” Deacon gestured towards Rebecca and his eyebrows were finally visible over his opaque sunglasses. “You know Kellogg right? Evildoer who we keep coming across these days? Yeah, she took him out. Had some help, but she is the one who chased him down. And by help, I mean Diamond City’s finest detective.”

The news seemed to soothe the woman’s ire. “Is this true?”

Rebecca met her eyes unflinchingly. “Yes. He had taken something of mine and I wanted it back.” She chose to be a bit vague at this point, as she still did not know these people. She had been willing to give a basic explanation at first, at least to clear her name. These people had not taken kindly to her presence and the fact that she carried an Institute weapon had only made it worse. If this Deacon character had not shown up, she was afraid to picture what could have happened.

She continued. “He didn’t have what I searched for, and a fight broke out. That’s where I got this rifle, too. Sorry to give such a bad first impression.”

“Alright,” the woman said after a moment’s deliberation. “If Deacon vouches for you, so be it. I’m Desdemona and - if you hadn’t noticed - you’ve found the Railroad. You have heard of it, right? Good. Before we go any farther, I need an answer from you. A clear, honest answer.”

She stepped down from the ledge they were standing on, walking over to Rebecca with purpose. “The Railroad helps synths. Let me ask you this. Would you risk your life for your fellow man, even if he was a synth?”

“I don’t see why not,” Rebecca replied. The answer had come automatically. She thought a bit on it, her eyes finding and tracing the bricks on the wall nearest her. It wasn’t something she had actually given too much thought to, if she was honest with herself. She had been (and still was) so preoccupied with finding her son that a question like that was one she had never considered. “I mean, if they need my help and they aren’t trying to kill me, yes I would risk my life. It really doesn’t matter to me if they’re a synth or not.”

She realized that these words felt true to her. What was the difference? From what she understood, the current model synth was the same as a human. They had the same organic flesh and organs. They bled. The only differing characteristic, as Nick had explained to her once, was a component in their brains that could not be accessed without killing the synth in question.

And even then, she considered Nick. He was a synth, albeit an older prototype, but she thought he had humanity.  He had the mind of a person; the personality and morality like that of a kind neighbor. That meant human to her, no matter his metal frame.

Desdemona looked pleased. “Then you’ll fit right in. The problem is, we still did not contact you. Normally, someone wishing to help the Railroad is contacted by one of our senior agents. They help us in small ways, for several years, until we can trust them. Then we might invite them as a full agent. You have not gone through this process.”

“Come on. Dez, we need her on our side. She can get shit done and I’d bet she has similar ideas about certain people.” Deacon pushed away from the wall and looked at her pointedly. “Let me take her out and see how she does. If she impresses, will you consider _inviting_ her to join our gang?”

“I trust your judgement, but we do these things for a reason. We have to be careful and plan all of our moves. One change could prove fatal.” Her eyes hardened and there was a horror within that Rebecca saw plainly. “But fine. You take her out. _If_ she impresses, I’ll consider it.”

“What?” Rebecca looked between the two. “You mean, make me part of the Railroad?”

“Of course. I would assume you’ve thought of that, since we started this conversation.”

She nodded slowly at the woman’s words. “Alright. What’s this plan?”

Desdemona gestured to Deacon before turning around and disappearing into the shadowy corridor on the far side of the room. The other woman left with her, minigun down and forgotten.

Deacon pulled Rebecca over to the side. “Sorry about the welcoming committee. Seems you almost got blown to bits.”

“Well, it was a little much but I understand now. I did just walk right in here.”

“You followed the Freedom Trail. That’s what it’s there for. You’re tough to have followed it all the way here.” He inspected her as he spoke, eyeing her weapons and leather armor. “Yep. So, I’m sure you’ve guessed who we’re dealing with. Right?”

“You’re helping synths. I would think anyone from the average citizen with a problem, to the Institute.”

“Bingo. We have to vet newcomers carefully, like Dez says, so this wasn’t exactly an uncalled for reaction. Y’know, we’ve been sneaking around the Institute for years. We have to be a little careful when someone new gets involved.”

“My plan is this,” he continued and leaned in closer. “We have a contact, a tourist we call them, that has some info on an old site of ours. Headquarters. It was raided by our common enemy and we had to leave in a hurry. Such a hurry that we left something very valuable behind and we don’t want them getting their hands on that kind of tech.”

“Raided?” The idea horrified Rebecca. A place in the Commonwealth actually raided by the Institute? Though it was not surprising, given their reputation, the thought of someone facing that famous level of firepower made her sick to her stomach.

Deacon folded his arms over his chest. “They caught wind of our location. I’ll spare you the gory details but it was a capital D disaster. Now, if you and I go and get that tech that’ll be sure to impress the boss. Dez will have to make you a full agent.”

“You sure seem to trust someone you just met.”

The agent laughed at this. “Nah, I haven’t just me you. You’ve just met me. I keep an eye on things topside. Track movements of major parties, watch out for Institute spies or signs they’re near. The whole nine yards. It’s a full-time job, really.” He pointed to her with a wry grin. “You are a new player in the Commonwealth and it seemed that you had the same interests as us.”

“So, you’ve been spying on me?” Rebecca asked with a touch of indignation. How long was he tracking her? How much did he know? The fact that he knew about her fight with Kellogg and her traveling companions meant that he’d been aware of her movements for quite some time.

“You make it sound so serious. I will say this, though. It would mean a lot if you didn’t rat us out to the Institute.” He looked down at her left arm and smirked. “Pip-Boy, right? Those things are hard to come by up here. Pull up your map and I’ll show you where we’ll meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little late, but it's here. Thanks to everyone who reads this story. It means a lot.
> 
> And happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day! I've never heard of that before but congrats to everyone out there to writes this kind of stuff. And a big thank you to everyone who reads it or leaves feedback. Have a great day and I'll see you all next time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca meets with the mysterious Railroad and our detectives meet the Minutemen.

Dogmeat sniffed the footprints, fur raising along his spine. He trotted ahead and lifted his nose, searching for more scent. He barked then, loud enough to catch the attention of his two companions. Turning as they approached, he barked again before pawing at the ground.

“Well I’ll be,” Nick Valentine commented, following the trail of footprints with his eyes. They were faint, pressed into the dried mud between broken pieces of asphalt. “Dogmeat found us a clue. I wonder these came from.”

Anna reached out to the dog and he licked her fingers. “Good boy,” she said with a grin. “Looks like quite a few people. See the different tracks? I’d say at least half a dozen. And this one...holy shit. Either this guy has the largest feet I have ever seen, he’s a super mutant, or…” she trailed off and looked over at the detective pointedly.

“Or they were wearing power armor. You think they came from Concord? A group of people like this, out this direction.” He crouched and inspected the footprints closely. Twisting, he looked down the road as if picturing their journey. “This might just be the variable we were missing yesterday. But who are they?”

“Not sure, but I suppose we’d better find out. Looks like they headed into town.” Anna frowned as she gazed towards the ruined town to the northwest. “Sanctuary Hills is what Ev called it.”

Nick stood and followed her gaze. “She used to live there, huh?” At the scavver’s nod he shrugged. “Best go and introduce ourselves. Seems you’re going to be neighbors.”

“Oh, and I liked being out here all by my lonesome.” 

The detective snorted at her humor. “ _ And _ ,” he added sternly. “If these people are friendly, they may let us borrow that power armor. If they aren’t, well, it’d be better to know now.”

They took off down the road, headed towards the town across the river. The ancient beams of the bridge creaked underfoot as they made their way across. The town was quiet as they approached, but voices could be heard at a distance. Sharing a glance, the two companions followed the sounds. Dogmeat trotted ahead, alert for danger.

Clustered around one of the ruined houses was a small group of what looked like settlers. Most of them were dressed simply in comfortable, if worn and tattered, clothing. Another wore some kind of uniform, and Anna frowned at it’s familiar design. Who were they?

They looked up at the duo’s approach. The one in uniform stepped forward to meet then, cautious but friendly. There was a gun strapped to his back, a long modified contraption that sported a vibrant red power source. Anna eyed it eagerly, palms itching to try it out sometime.

“Hey, folks.” Nick’s voice was open and friendly. “Looks like you’re new here. You need some help? The name’s Nick and this is Anna.”

At this calm introduction, the uniformed man relaxed. He and Nick shook hands and any tension in the group disappeared. “Preston Garvey, nice to meet you.” His eyes trailed from the detective’s face to his metal hand but he said nothing. “This is my group. We’ve been traveling for a long time now, up from Quincy. We were hoping to make a home here.”

“That’s a hell of a walk,” Anna commented quietly. “Quincy, you said? I heard of something happening down that direction. You guys were there, weren’t you?”

Preston looked uncomfortable at this, eyes downcast. “I’m a part of the Minutemen. Gunners attacked the area and we were unable to stop them. We are all that’s left and we’ve been looking for a new home ever since.”

“I found them in Concord.” A second man moved to stand at Preston’s side. He was as haggard as the rest, dirt and a few streaks of red on his clothing. “The name’s Barnum, uh... just call me B. I’m a trader. Used to be part of a caravan back in the day. I heard the shots while up that direction, so I went to investigate. Turns out they needed my help. We drove off some raiders and a deathclaw before coming this way.”

“That would explain the scene we found when we passed through,” Nick said. “Sorry you folks had to go through all that. The Commonwealth can be a real nightmare sometimes.”

Anna echoed this, expression troubled. These people had likely spent days on the road, with little cover. To find some place that looked safe, only to have it nearly become their last stand, must have been one hell of a nightmare. “Well, this area is usually pretty quiet. I live just over the river, in that truck stop. You can count on me for help, or anything really. You guys need some help getting settled?”

The settlers took to this offer eagerly, and the duo spent several hours helping them move in. Codsworth, the Mr. Handy model Rebecca had worried about, was present as well and helped dust and clean. The bot may have been bit confused with all of the commotion, but he took to his new tasks quickly. At the mention of the vault dweller, he became elated and was glad to hear that she was alright. 

He disappeared into what used to be her house, chatting away as he went to work straightening it and setting out clothes and linens for her inevitable return. 

“She’ll be glad to know he’s still around and eager to see her,” Anna said as she helped lift and move an old sofa. B held the other end, walking backward as he led the way out of one home and down the sidewalk. “I’ll leave the story for her to tell at her own pace, but you should know that she used to live here. Yes, prewar. No, no. She can give out any details she chooses.”

B smiled at this, seeming to understand. “Well, at any rate. She’s welcome to stay with us. We’d love the company and experience, not to mention the set of hands.”

As the day drew to a close, the group gathered in the house across from Rebecca’s. A few lanterns were lit, throwing flickering orange and yellow light over the building’s ruined walls. A few pieces of furniture, salvaged from other houses, centered around a coffee table where some food had been placed. 

“Help yourself,” B said to the group. He sat heavily between Preston and an old woman who they all called Mama Murphy. “Food should still be good. Prewar grocers were experimenting with that new preservation technique, last I knew. They claimed that the seals would last for centuries.” 

Anna chuckled at this. She wondered whether this was true, or the radiation had simply mutated the food enough that spoilage was the least of their worries. Or, perhaps, the people of the Commonwealth were just immune to such everyday concerns. 

People dug in with gusto. They had all worked up their appetites and devoured the food quickly. Anna remained where she was, accepting only a bottle of Nuka-Cola. She waved a hand when the mechanic Sturges insisted she take a share of the food. “No, you guys keep your food. I’ll get some later at home.”

She leaned back into the sofa and looked across the settlers, smiling faintly. The only sound in the room, asides from the breeze rattling the rusted walls, was the sound of happy munching. These people were a good group, Anna thought; hard-working and honest. Though it was obvious they each had their own personal demons and didn’t always get along, they relied on each other. Having been through thick and thin, their solidarity showed. 

Preston was fiercely protective of those around him. Anna had noticed him tending to each person throughout the day, checking on them and helping them with whatever task they had taken on.  _ Over _ protective, some would call it, but the scavver respected his dedication. 

He caught her gaze and nodded, tipping his old hat towards her.

“When will you be bringing this prewar friend of yours around?” Sturges spoke up after a while. He was sitting forward on an old dining chair, the light of the lantern casting his face into relief. Strong jaw and prominent nose. Open, friendly eyes. “I’d be happy to fix up her house first, is what I’m saying. I plan on making them all a bit more stable, using the material from the houses we can’t use.”

“I’m not sure. I’ll head back towards Diamond City soon and let her know about you all. She’s got a lot on her plate right now, but I’m sure she’d be game to meet you.”

“And she won’t mind, us just moving in like this?” B spoke up again. He held his plate still, even though it had been picked clean. “This is her home.”

Anna shrugged and held out her hands. “I don’t see her having an issue with it, but I don’t speak for her. Let’s just get you settled first and I’ll check in with her later.”

“She’s right. There’s nothing that can be done about it tonight. Everyone, find yourself a spot and get some sleep. In the morning we’ll get back to it. There’s still a lot of work to be done around here.” Preston stood up and several others followed suit. He offered a hand to Mama Murphy and she waved him off impatiently, claiming that she wasn’t an invalid and didn’t need his help. 

The others disappeared slowly, headed towards the beds that they had prepared for themselves. Each, it seemed, had already claimed a house. 

“We better leave them to it,” Nick commented as he and Anna watched them all leave from the porch. “We can radio Ellie in the morning and see if she can get a hold of Rebecca. In the meantime we’ll keep busy here.”

“Sounds good. C’mon, I wasn’t kidding earlier. I really do need to get something to eat.”

 

Adjusting the straps to her traveling pack, Rebecca mourned the loss of quite a few caps. This new trip she was taking had cost her a bit in supplies. The caps she had earned completing that contract for the city were almost gone, and she wasn’t keen on taking another.

Well, she had to do what she had to. 

She looked up at the crumbling overpass ahead of her, tracing it as it disappeared in the distance. A surprising expanse of it still stood, cars and semis clinging to its surface like rusty shadows in the night. The rest of it had collapsed long ago, the large concrete slabs half sunken into the earth. She wondered when the rest would follow.

Referring once more to her Pip-Boy, she squinted at the sudden greenish light. This was the place. Deacon had showed her the spot on her map, claiming that she couldn’t miss it. It seemed he was right.

The vault dweller forged ahead, moving quietly along the deserted road. She looked above her as she drew near, shuddering slightly at the sight of the overpass. “Well, if it’s stood for 200 years, it’ll stand for a bit longer,” she muttered to herself, turning her attention back to the road.

Movement caught her eye and she looked to see a man sauntering towards her. She tensed for a moment, hand straying to her 10mm, until she recognized the face. “Deacon?” she questioned, inspecting his outfit with interest. 

“Recognized me? Damn, and I thought I did a good job.” He spread out his hands and drew attention to the casual, worn outfit. “It’s my take on your usual wastelander. Wait a minute. Listen: This is my piece of the junkyard, asshole. Back off. Good, right?”

Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not sure that’s accurate, but I’m still getting used to this place. Haven’t met too many ‘wastelanders’ as you call them.”

“Aren’t they all around you? We all live here.” The man looked over his sunglasses at her. “You ready to get started? I’ll show you how we find and get a hold of our tourist. Follow me.”

He turned and took off at a easy jog. Rebecca followed him, trying not to show her uneasiness. They found a section of the road that had fallen partway, giving them an easy path up to the overpass itself. She placed her feet exactly where he did, eyeing the exposed rebar with some concern. 

Once at the top she took a moment to look around. The shells of automobiles sat around them, relics from her old life. The paint was rusted and chipped, the windows long since broken into. She looked out over the edge, keeping back behind what was left of the fence, and saw the expanse of the Commonwealth beneath her. Shining with pale moonlight, it was almost serene.

Her eyes snagged on a peculiar sight. To the southwest rose a column of greenish blue light, looking to her like some kind of ghost. She blinked in confusion, tracing the horizon slowly as she tried to guess where it was. 

Deacon had noticed her and followed her gaze. “Hell of a view, isn’t it? Pretty sight, but as with most things, pretty is deadly.”

“Deadly?” she asked, but then the answer had already came to her. That must be one of the detotation zones. Or at least just about, she figured. She remembered the bomb detonating all those years ago, but wasn’t sure if that was the same location. “That’s the spot where one fell, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. There’s a few others around, but that’s the biggest one in this region. People call it the Glowing Sea. Don’t think I need to tell you why.”

So that was the Glowing Sea. Its ghostly appearance took on an even darker meaning when she thought of the people that had died there.

Rebecca grimaced at the sight, reminded of her mission to find Brian Virgil. That it could be seen from so far away meant that it was no small location. The trip down to its edge would be long enough, but actually finding that scientist? “Who knows where in that mess he is,” she said quietly before turning around again. That was a problem for a later date.

If Deacon had heard her, he gave no sign. They continued along the road for a while, both alert for any danger, until he came to a stop. 

“See that?” He pointed with the barrel of his gun, indicating a painted lantern on the concrete. “That’s a railsign. We use them to communicate with each other. They aren’t hard to remember. This one means that our tourist is nearby. Keep an eye out.”

Rebecca committed the symbol to memory. A lantern with a plus in the middle, and it meant tourist, or perhaps an ally? She continued after Deacon, passing by several cars until they came to an open area. A stranger stood at a distance, idly picking at the hem of his jacket.

Deacon stopped and turned to her. “I’m betting that he’s our contact. Hey, why don’t you take control of this for now? You go and talk to him. See what information you can get out of him about our mission. But first: whatever he says to you, reply with ‘Mine in in the shop.’”

Rebecca nodded once and stood up, hooking her 10mm to her hip. She walked up to the other man, noticing Deacon staying behind a ways, and offered him a smile.

“Oh, thank god. Do you have a geiger counter? Do you have a goddamn geiger counter?”

The request was an odd one. She figured that this was the code phrase Deacon had mentioned. “Mine is in the shop,” she offered and the man relaxed. She almost laughed at the phrase, as appropriate for the wasteland as it was. She hoped that there were plenty of geiger counter repair shops in the wasteland.

“Good, you’re here. Two of you? I was told I’d only be meeting one of you.” The man turned and eyed Deacon suspiciously. 

The other man dispelled this with a knowing laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m new and she’s just showing me the ropes.”

“Just go ahead and tell us what you know. Anything that can help us.” Rebecca kept her voice quiet and soothing. This man was no irate criminal or stressed client, but her schooling came forth anyway. Discretion and comfort were two things she had always excelled in.

The tourist seemed to understand. “I barely managed to get out myself. The place is overrun. I set out a minefield to catch some of them, but I don’t know how many it’ll stop. The back entrance is blocked by those damn chrome-dome synth sons o’ bitches. There’s isn’t much time. You two had better hurry.”

“And there aren’t any other entrances?” At the shake of his head, Rebecca added. “And about how many... synths are blocking the back?” This time his answer was an emphatic  _ too many _ so she just nodded. 

As there was nothing else to gain from questioning their tourist, the two companions backed away and let him leave. Once the tourist was out of earshot Deacon turned to her.

“What do you think? Do we trust what he says?”

Rebecca considered it. “Well, why would he lie about that kind of security? It would be more doubtful if he had minimized it. And if the threat isn’t as high as he says, I’d say that’s good news. Plan for the worst, hope for the best - at least that’s an old saying I used to know.”

“That’s what I was thinking. And which entrance do you suggest?”

“We could either chance fighting the synths, or hopefully miss the mines. As long as the mines aren’t covered, we could avoid them. Synths, not so much.”

“Fair enough,” Deacon concluded. “Let’s take the mines. I’ve encountered them a few times before, so I know some tricks. Keep your steps light and your eyes to the ground. Even if they are covered - and covered well - you can usually spot the light. If not, well there are other signs. Come on.”

As it turned out, the base they needed was under an old Slocum’s Joe. Deacon showed her the old elevator that the Railroad had once used, and though it was powered down, they managed to climb the short distance to the tunnel underneath. 

They made their way through the next room. Deacon took the time to quietly narrate as they went along, explaining the few railsigns they found and lamenting over the bodies of fallen members of the organization. There were a few synths, but they were able to avoid most of them by sticking to the shadows.

“This place is government tech,” Rebecca observed as they moved on. “The Switchboard, you called it? Never heard of it, but that makes sense. I wonder what kind of prewar information is still stored here. Maybe something about the war itself, like who fired first. That would be  _ the _ question to answer.”

“Right? Not that it really matters anymore.”

Deacon held up a hand. They crouched in the shadows of a hallway, facing an intersection. To the left was a heavy steel door that, according to the agent, led to where they needed to go. Two synths could be seen to their right, occupying an old storeroom, but their backs were turned. Quietly, the two companions crossed the open area, hugging close to the door in order to stay out of sight.

“So what’s the plan? Think we can take all of these at once?”

The man frowned, eyebrows coming together. “We stick together and get each other’s backs, yeah I think so. You’ve handled these guys before and so have I.” He nodded towards the door and Rebecca caught his meaning. “Let’s stay low until we see how many we have to deal with. I’ll shut the door, but I doubt it’ll give us any privacy.”

They moved quickly, him cracking open the door just enough for them both to sneak through. Rebecca turned around and ducked behind an overturned filing cabinet, looking around the room. The main floor, where they both crouched, was crowded with ruined office furniture and debris. Three synths circled the wreckage.

A metal staircase on the far side of the room led to a second floor. A synth stood at the top, looking out over the room. She bit her lip and pulled herself behind her makeshift cover, turning to Deacon again.

“We need to go up those stairs,” he explained without pause. “There’s no use trying to sneak through here. Take them out and we’ll regroup then.”

With a nod, the vault dweller readied her laser rifle. It had served her well so far and she trusted it still. Together they moved from their cover, each firing off several shots. In seconds the room erupted into chaos as the synths snapped into action.

Most of Rebecca’s shots had caught the first, and she watched as it burned into the heavy armor they wore. The scorch marks were stark on the bright material but it held fast. She swore as she changed her aim, squinting and selecting their vulnerable right arm. It seemed that even though the Institute’s weapon was advanced and designed for high damage, the Institute’s armor was designed to protect against it.

She moved as the synth fired back, twisting to the side and barely avoiding the shot. She saw another drawing near, paling at the sight of another rifle. Luckily, the second synth had little armor and so she targeted them instead. They went down quickly, the laser burning through their body after several shots.

Pain lanced along her leg and she dropped, looking back at the first. The shot had hit her thigh, and the reinforced armor she wore only protected her from so much damage. She pushed past the pain, shouldering her rifle and firing again, aiming for the synth’s arm. 

As the synth went down, shaking slightly before collapsing, Rebecca looked up to find Deacon. She spotted him facing the other two synths, using a desk for cover as he fired from behind it. 

A pounding caught her attention and she looked to the main door, watching as it shook on its hinges. Deacon had managed to latch it (and secure it somehow), but the synths from the hallway were determined to get inside.

The woman frantically dug into her pack and pulled out a stimpak. She injected it into her leg and rebuckled what was left of her leg armor, resolutely picking herself up and getting ready for a second round.

The door buckled inward just as she was reloading her rifle. The hinges screeched in protest as the two synths forced it open. One carried a rifle and another a electric baton, but thankfully neither wore armor.

They both sighted Rebecca. The first aimed carefully, firing off several shots as she dodged the second’s advances. The heat from the lasers burned too close for comfort, but she ignored this and instead focused on taking them down.

The second swung the baton and she ducked, hearing the crackle of electricity go over her head. She pushed upward then, bracing her rifle along her arm and striking. The synth’s jaw snapped, metal and plastic cracking loudly, and they fell backward. She kicked the baton away and turned to the first again, diving behind a cabinet for cover.

“They don’t give up, do they?”

She looked over to see Deacon in a similar predicament. He was harried, a scorch mark clear along his shoulder and dust smeared along his side. One of his targets had gone down but the other still stood, though weakly, and seemed to be waiting for his reappearance.

“They’re good, I’ll give them that. If only they weren’t hostile.” Rebecca muttered this last bit to herself, taking a breath and peering around the cabinet. She felt conflicted for fighting them, but comforted herself with the realization that these synths were hostile. Programmed or not, they would kill without hesitation.

The last synths went down with no small about of struggle. Finally the two companions regrouped, each nursing a few wounds. After bandaging what they could manage, and stimpaking what they couldn’t, they made their way up the stairs.

There was a room there, small and enclosed. A glass window overlooked the foyer, and computer banks lined the walls. It was a command center, Rebecca realized with some curiosity. There was a terminal in the center of the room, somehow still hooked to some power source. She longed to log on to it and go through any files she could, but knew that their mission was more important.

The moved through the double doors and, fighting past a few more synths, eventually came across a heavy security door. Deacon approached it, digging in his pocket with a frown.

“Tommy Whispers was the last one up here when they attacked. Looks like he managed to secure the safe room. Our prototype should be safe then. Here, let me see if I can get the door to cooperate.” Deacon waved a hand and pulled out a small recorder from his pocket. He held it out to an intercom next to the door and played the message. The unfamiliar voice was the key and soon the steel bolts of the door lifted.

The door shuddered and opened. Deacon remained silent, expression troubled, as he entered the room. 

Rebecca followed at a distance, folding her arms across her chest. “Is it here?” she asked, but her voice cracked at the sight of the body. It was of a man. “Oh, god. Is that him?”

“Yeah. Poor bastard. Seems he didn’t make it out after all.” Deacon crouched beside him and reached out, snagging the small pistol nearby. “He stayed here and secured this room, even if it meant his death. We have to let the others know. Here, you take this. It was his, but you should have it.”

He handed her the pistol and Rebecca nodded numbly. True, it was doing no one any good here. Tommy was dead and could no longer use it himself. “Thanks,” she said quietly, looking down at the man’s body before inspecting the weapon.

It was a small black pistol, modified heavily. There was a special line of sight and some kind of additive at the end of the barrel, which she supposed was a silencer. This was the Railroad, after all. It had a comfortable grip and she flipped on the safety before hooking it onto her belt beside her 10mm.

“Looks small, but it packs a hell of a punch. Quiet, too.” Deacon stood again and moved around the rubble, muttering to himself about the damage the raid caused. He stopped before a set of shelves built high up on the wall, letting out a relieved sigh. “Good. At least the prototype is intact. It’s a modified stealth boy. Took us quite some time to get it to this point. If the Institute got its hands on this…”

Rebecca caught his meaning. “Well, we have it now. Let’s get it back to Desdemona and work can continue on it. And maybe we can send in some people to help these guys.” She wanted to reassure Deacon, but knew that nothing could be said. The destruction of the the base they stood in was a testament to the Institute’s determination and power. There was nothing she could do, or even say, to fix it. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Deacon agreed to this and they left the safe room, making their way back in the direction they had come. Both figured that it was safer than pushing forward and coming across more synths. After powering the elevator back up, they rode it up to the surface.

Once outside, they found themselves facing the green sky and high winds of a storm. Rebecca had never seen one like this before before and looked to her Pip-Boy with worry.

“Radiation?” she asked, even though it was obvious. The geiger counter clicked dangerously with every flash of lightning. “Oh,” she breathed, feeling the faint burn that she figured was said radiation. “So this is a radstorm. What nasty piece of work.”

“Agreed. Well, I vote for staying here and out of the radrain. We just soaked up enough here as it is. Take a rad-x and we’ll head back inside.” They did so, each of them swallowing the small pills that would combat the rads. They headed back inside where the radiation could not harm them.

Deacon found them a spot for them to rest. “Get comfortable. We might as well stay the night.” 

The vault dweller agreed with the idea. She settled against the stone wall, pulling her pack onto her lap and digging through it for a can of purified water. After washing the acrid taste of the rad-x away, she pulled out a container where she had stuffed some food. 

“Here,” she said and offered the container to Deacon. “No, take some. We’ve both been out here all evening. I brought plenty.”

She suspected that, if he was not wearing the damned sunglasses, she would have seen his eyes rolling. Ignoring this she insisted until he took roughly half of what she offered. 

“Kind of the mother of the group, aren’t you?” he joked as they began to eat.

Rebecca flinched at the title, averting her eyes. Mother. What kind of mother was she? Unable to protect her son from kidnappers and now unable to get to him? She knew that it was unfair to think this way. She had been trapped and therefore physically prevented from saving him. And now, as she sat waiting for the radstorm above to end, she reminded herself of the Glowing Sea and the huge obstacle that posed.

It wasn’t her lack of determination that kept them apart. But the logic did little to make her feel better.

“Jeez. Sorry, Becca. Struck a nerve, didn’t I?” Deacon’s voice was apologetic. She looked over and saw that he was staring ahead, face carefully neutral. He was silent for a while before adding, “Thanks for the pick-me-up. Not too many people think to pack the basics. Myself included. Now get some sleep.”

“Yes, Mr. Super-Spy,” Rebecca replied with a thread of humor. Catching his dry laugh, she smiled and shifted, curling up against the wall with her pack as a pillow. Sleep did not come easily.

 

Hot morning sunlight burned across the hills. It turned the dried, brown grass to a vivid gold and the grey boulders to a near white. Anna turned her face away, wiping away the sweat that had gathered on her forehead. Mud smeared her skin as she did so and she chuckled to herself. A bath never lasted long in the wasteland, it seemed.

The sun beat down on her shoulders and she was thankful for the old jacket she wore. Though it was warm in the morning heat, it protected her pale skin from the harsh light from above. She burned easily, and the thought of the peeling, itchy skin that entailed made her shudder. It would make for a long night.

Lowering herself to her knees, she dropped the basket beside her and reached out for the first vine. The tatos she sought were ripe and ready to be picked. She snipped one from the vine, using a pair of shears in order to encourage further growth, and squeezed it gently. Finding it to her standards, she tossed it into the basket and went hunting for more.

The air smelled like fresh soil and growing things, a faint trace of ozone lingering like an unwelcome visitor. The radstorm from the night before had brought rain, and it had shut down any movement for miles. She had, to her irritation, been forced to stay inside and away from the open windows of the truck stop. Instead of taking the time to make herself something warm to eat, and maybe sit outside and actually enjoy the evening, she had stayed indoors and dug into her stash of canned goods.

But at least it had given her a reason to put some of her new material to work. Her plasma rifle, left inside for the time being, shone clean and freshly polished. The bottles of wonderglue she had found on the trip out from the city had been scraped. Their valuable adhesive had been collected in a sealed bucket in the garage and the bottles themselves cleaned and set aside for the plastic. And the rolls of duct tape, a favorite of hers for the sheer versatility, had been tossed in a footlocker with the rest.

Finished with the tatos, she turned to the melon vines and inspected them. They weren’t ready for harvesting yet, but she noted their progress with a grin. Soon she would have melon to eat, and the thought of that sweetness brought a smile to her face.

The radstorm had turned the ground to mud the night before, but the morning sun had baked most of it dry again. As she worked, jacket sleeves folded up to her elbows, dirt and a bit of mud streaked her arms and jeans, the feeling familiar and comforting after the events of the past few days. Her fingers dug deep into the cooler soil beneath the surface.

She had little fear of the actual rads, as after the storm had finally blown over (or screamed itself dry, she corrected wryly), the radiation had faded quickly like always. Most ran into the earth and dissipated, or faded into the open air. The real danger to such storms was during its onslaught, when lightning lashed out at those caught without cover, and the radrain seared into the skin.

Once done checking the rest of her crops, she hooked the basket around one arm and reentered the station, setting it on the counter for sorting. She wiped her hands on her jeans, dusting off the dirt and plant matter, and headed back towards her bedroom. There she found Nick seated at the desk, leaning back with one foot braced on the bottom shelf nearby. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips as he listened to the radio.

“...I haven’t seen her. She left shortly after you two did, packed for a day of travel. I think she mentioned checking out the Freedom Trail, or something like that.” Ellie’s voice was faint and there was a trace of concern that could be heard even over the radio. “Do you think she’s okay? I mean, she left by herself.”

The detective waved a hand even though Ellie couldn’t see it. “Rebecca’s a tough gal. I’m sure she’s fine. She took on those ferals by herself, didn’t she?” He pulled the cigarette from his lips and leaned his head back as he thought. Something other than worry crawled across his face. “I think I know where she’s headed. If I’m right, she’ll be alright. She’s got the guts for it.”

Anna moved closer and sat at the edge of her bed, pulling one leg beneath her. “She’s after the Railroad, isn’t she?”

Nick finally noticed her. His gaze flickered with an inhuman speed, taking in the mud streaking her features. He looked like he wanted to say something, lips curling into an amused grin, but instead he turned back to the receiver. “Either way, I wouldn’t worry about her yet, Ellie. Just when she gets back, let her know about the settlers, okay?”

When Ellie promised to do so, the two signed off. Nick let out a sigh, replacing the cigarette and reaching up to massage his temples. He chewed on the end idly. “If she followed that trail to the end, then I’m sure she found them. She’s gonna be in deep, but I suppose she already was.”

“She already seeks the Institute,” Anna pointed out, catching on to his thoughts. “I thought she seemed interested, though I don’t think it was because she wanted to join the Railroad itself. Just curious when she saw the beginning out by that swan lake. I didn’t say anything at the time because I didn’t want to burden her with more information. Or spread information about the group itself.”

“They made that trail for a reason. Can’t be surprised when someone actually follows it, can they?” Nick seemed to consider this news, eyes fixed on something near the floor. He shook himself after a long pause, replacing the cigarette in the pack in his pocket. “If she joins them, good. They could use someone like her. Not that I really know any of them, of course. Let’s go and see what our friends over at Sanctuary need help with today.”

When they arrived, bringing with them some much-needed supplies, they found a flurry of activity near the main house. A beacon of sorts had been set up, dish extended towards the sky. Anna raised an eyebrow at this, wondering where they had gotten the power.

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought some spare fuel,” she said with a nod towards it. She spotted B and Preston speaking not far off and called to get their attention. “Good morning. You have plans for that beacon?”

“Sure do,” B replied. He looked up at it thoughtfully, idly twisting the antenna of the small pocket radio in his hands. “We get that running and find our own frequency, we can transmit across the Commonwealth. Hey, is that…?” He gestured to the plastic canister Nick carried. At the detective’s knowing smirk, his face lit up. “Great! You must’ve noticed that generator then. Perfect, thank you.”

At his wave, they followed him over to the rusty generator behind the next house over. It was a bit smaller than the cars that sat in almost every driveway and looked as if it hadn’t run in centuries. 

“This old girl should give us enough to power that beacon and, I’m hoping, a purifier that we can put in the river. We just need to get her up and running.” B crouched by the electrical panel and opened the lid. Inside it was dusty and full of cobwebs, but appeared to be intact. “Good news,” he commented with relief. “Alright, admittedly I’m not an expert in stuff like this. Never stayed in one place long enough to need a generator. And Bunker Hill was all set up.”

Nick set the canister of fuel down and winked at Anna. “You two see what you can do. I’ll take those and scout out a place for a field.” His voice was amused, as he knew how much this stuff fascinated the scavver. He caught the bag of seedlings she tossed up at him and disappeared down towards the river.

“This looks just like the one I have at home. First, let’s get this all cleaned out so we can see what we’re dealing with.” Anna joined B and together they cleaned the dust and debris from the generator. With a chuckle she buckled on her leather toolbelt and set to work, remembering the hours she put into getting the truck stop in livable condition. 

When it was as clean as they could make it, and the parts freshly oiled, she sat back in the grass. “Now all that’s left is to gas her up and see if she kicks. Go ahead,” she said to B and he took the canister and carefully poured its contents into the empty basin.

They held their breath as he worked the controls, choosing a low output setting before flipping the switch. Seconds passed in silence until the machine uttered a high pitched whine and the gears started to spin with fervor. It shook slightly and the light on top flickered to light like the resilient survivor it was.

With a cheer, B punched a fist into the air. He set the canister aside and sat heavily, moping sweat with a sleeve. “What great luck,” he said and his grin was infectious. He leaned back and stretched out in the sun. “There’s still wires tucked up in there and I’ll run them up and over to the transmitter. Preston will love this.”

Anna was inclined to agree. The Minuteman in question was elsewhere, but she could easily imagine the joy he would show. “So what now?” 

“Now we can let the Commonwealth know the Minutemen are back. They may had a major setback in Quincy, and others as well, but they’re going to come back if it’s the last thing he and I do.” B’s determination showed on his face, features hard and resolute. “We’re going to rebuild. Finally start to take back the wasteland and make it a home for people again.”

“That’s great. The people around here need that support again. But it seems to me that you’re settling down, caravanner.” The scavver’s voice was teasing as she looked over at him.

“I think so, too.” The words were solemn, and she could see the steel underneath his cheerful nature. “I agreed to join him, you know. Help him run the Minutemen and travel out to all the farms and small settlements around. I’d take that chance over trading radstag pelts and desk fans any day.”

“Well, if you want this stranger’s opinion, I think you’ll both do well. It’ll be a long road, but one you and your friends have the strength to travel. I wish you guys the best.”

B rolled his head to the side and this time his smile was fond. “Thanks. You and Nick are welcome here, anytime. And when Rebecca shows up, so is she. Sanctuary will be open to anyone needing a home.”

As B went to deliver the news to Preston, Anna stood and went to find Nick. Wondering just where he had decided to plant the seedlings she had brought, she picked her way down the slope towards the river. As she had suspected, he had set up a short distance from the houses. The bag waited on a picnic table as he worked, stilled tied tightly and leaking muddy water down its weathered surface.

Next to it was the detective’s patched trench coat, having obviously been shed in the midday heat. She sympathized with this, as she was hot enough and  _ she _ could sweat. Nick could not and often complained about overheating issues. She found it amusing. His internal fans, which only kicked on in such cases, whirred in the most endearing way.

She looked over to spot her companion crafting a fence out of scavenged wire.“I see you’ve been quite industrious,” she said as she approached. “I bet these settlers will thank you when they can have more than ancient tins of cram for dinner.”

“Yeah, well if I can’t get this fence in, the creatures out here will be the ones to thank me. Grab that end, will ya?” He pointed to the roll of wire and when she did so, began unrolling it towards the next post. Pausing there, he pulled a hammer from his belt and secured it with several nails. “You get that generator to sing yet?”

Anna scoffed. “You doubt these hands?”

“Not at all, doll.” 

She stared at him, catching the note in his voice. The smile on his face was far too provocative for anything good. “Watch it, Valentine,” she warned and tried to ignore the warmth churning in her belly. “Keep talking like that and bad things’ll happen. Now let’s finish this fence and get those crops planted.”

Soon enough they finished the field, planting the seedlings in neat rows. Mutfruit, tatos, and razorgrain. In a few weeks they would start to produce edibles and the people of Sanctuary could add them to whatever menu they end up setting. Satisfied with their work they rejoined the others, noting that B had indeed ran a cable from the working generator to the radio beacon.

The light in the center of the dish shone with power and Anna pulled out her mobile and scanned the frequencies. At such a close distance the signal came in clear.

“Success. Now just to load that holotape to the signal.” B manipulated the panel on the beacon, inserting a small holotape with a pleased expression. “There we go. People should be able to hear our message, loud and clear. Give it a day and we’ll have some takers.”

The scavver turned off her radio again, having caught the beginnings of the playback. “Congratulations,” she offered and a feeling of contentment settled over her. These people were on their way to a safe and comfortable home. With just a few more renovations, Sanctuary Hills would become a bustling town for the first time in over two centuries.

And that was some accomplishment.

 

Rebecca approached the old church, glancing around before disappearing inside. She made her way downstairs and through the damp catacombs to the same room she had met the Railroad in. As she suspected, they were waiting for her.

She and Deacon had split that morning, the agent disappearing in the early dawn and making his way back to headquarters by himself. She had not pushed the issue of traveling together, as it truly didn’t matter to her. Though she was still learning the all safe routes, she was aware of what trouble spots to avoid and when. Deacon had obviously chosen his own path, as she had never once spotted him on her own return journey.

Now she approached him and Desdemona, both of which were in deep conversation. Deacon seemed to be telling a story, arms gesturing and voice rising and falling for effect. Rebecca only caught some of the words, but soon realized that he was talking about their mission to the Switchboard.

She stopped in the middle of the room and sighed. They had done none of what he claimed. They had not faced 100 synths, nor had she carried him and the prototype out of the burning wreckage of the old base. 

“You’re back.” Desdemona held up a hand to halt the man’s story. “Deacon has returned the prototype you two recovered. Well done. He also has some...rather outrageous claims about what happened last night. You mind explaining?”

With a smile, Rebecca set the records straight. “Well, there were a few hostile synths, but not that many. And no, there was no carrying or explosions. We snuck in one way, fought a few and grabbed what we needed, and snuck back out. A radstorm kept us too, otherwise we could have been back sooner.”

“I thought so. Deacon’s been exaggerating again, as always.”

“It made a great story,” the agent complained, raising an eyebrow at Rebecca. 

Desdemona waved a hand. “Stories don’t get synths out of the Commonwealth.” She stepped down from the ledge and held out a hand to Rebecca, who shook it heartily. “You’ve convinced me, Rebecca. I’ve decided to make you a full agent of the Railroad, with your agreement. Are you interested?”

Rebecca had taken the time to think about the proposal. When sleep had failed to come the night before, she had spent a considerable time going over the idea in her head. Working for the Railroad and helping get synths out of the Institute. It was a hell of an idea.

“Yes. Count me in.”

She wanted to help synths. From what she had seen and heard of the Institute, they treated the synths as property. This irritated her, as no thinking thing deserved to be viewed as such. They were not property and they were not slaves. If they needed help getting out, she was more than willing to be there.

“Good. You’ll need a codename. Something that we can call you by.”

Now this she had not considered. Not that it surprised her. “Call me…” she trailed off as she thought of some answers. Most that came to mind were too foolish to use. “Fixer.”

“Fixer? Well, alright. Maybe you can help us fix some of our problems.” Desdemona offered her a smile before turning around. “Come with me, it’s time for you to meet the others.”

Rebecca had chosen the name for a reason that Desdemona had almost guessed. She wanted to help fix some of the problems she saw in the Commonwealth. The patches of raiders and mutants, ferals infesting old buildings and subway systems. Lack of clean water. And the injustice she had seen everyday since emerging from the vault. She thought that if she chose the name, it would make it all happen.

She was led deeper into the crypt. Beyond a heavy wooden door was a larger room, hastily furnished and buzzing with activity. The room was cold, with low ceilings and brick walls. Columns of stone divided the room into sections while a giant circular tomb rose in the center, covered in maps and loose sheets of paper.

The room was not without its comforts, Rebecca noted. Old mattresses sat on the stone floor, covered with neatly folded quilts. A sofa sat pushed into one corner, while several desks dominated the space. Most were occupied with other agents A cooking stove and several workbenches stood ready for use.

Seeing all of these living arrangements next to open (though thankfully empty) coffins was more than a little disconcerting. Rebecca blinked and looked past it all, choosing to see the hard working agents instead. If the place was safe, it was miles ahead of most others in the wasteland.

At Desdemona’s insistence, Rebecca walked around and briefly introduced herself before moving on to the next. A few of the agents were happy to see her, merrily shaking her hand and wishing her well, while most of the others were hesitant to trust her. It seemed that they all knew of her, and had already passed their judgment.

She met with P.A.M., the Railroad’s strategist and security expert. The assaultron operated out of a small room off to the side. She was a wealth of knowledge when it came to the surface, aware of the movements of all major parties in the Commonwealth. Though she gave no specifics to Rebecca - who she deemed a rogue variable - that level of information made the vault dweller uneasy.

She wondered why P.A.M. had become part of the Railroad, but decided it too rude to ask. The bot was obviously military, programmed for precise data models of grand scale. Why she had chosen to take up with the synth-helping agents was a mystery that would have to wait for another day. The only thing that mattered, Rebecca supposed, was that P.A.M. had elected to stay and use her abilities to further the Railroad’s goals.

She also met with Carrington. He served as the group’s doctor and second-in-command. His open distaste for her was clear.

“It would have been nice if Desdemona had run this past me, but what’s done is done. You’re here now, and we might as well make the most of it.” He stood at a table, the recovered prototype in front of him. It had been opened and she could see the circuits and tiny wires within. “I’m assuming you impressed the others,” he continued as he bent back to work. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have bypassed our security completely. Now, I have several contacts on the surface who report to me through dead drops. You know what those are, right?”

“They leave something behind in a given location, and you retrieve it later. Yes, I’ve heard of the idea.” In truth, Rebecca had only seen it in movies. But she didn’t think that would convince him.

“Good. After what happened at the Switchboard, we’re only communicating this way until we can verify all of our other bases. There will be plenty of work for you.” Carrington straightened and looked over his shoulder. “As a matter of fact. If you’re eager to get started, there is one available. It came in after all the other agents left this morning. Take it and we’ll see how you do.”

Rebecca took the paper he offered. It had nothing more than a location, but she nodded with forced understanding. When the doctor turned back to his work, she back away and headed for the exit.

If she was honest, the level of mistrust hurt. Several of the agents were cold, regarding her as if she were an enemy here to betray them. Her reassuring words did little to change their minds, but she supposed that it was fair. Only through her actions would she gain the Railroad’s trust, and nothing less. 

“Hey, doc already give you an assignment?” Deacon caught up with her, eyeing the paper in her hand. “Nice. We need all the help we can get to straighten all this out. And this will be a good way to get your feet wet. He didn’t yell at you too much, did he?”

“Define too much,” Rebecca replied frankly. “Is he always like this?”

“Oh, sure. He’s got a lot on his mind, is all. Carrington is one of the few around her who actually thinks of the long-term. Don’t worry, he’ll warm up to you soon enough. C’mon, let me show you the other way out.” Deacon reached out and steered her back away from the entrance. “No, no, not that way. We use the front too much, and we’ll attract attention. The back is this way. It doubles as our escape tunnel.”

The back entrance did indeed go through a tunnel. They picked their way through the debris and, to Rebecca’s dismay, the water that had partially flooded the area. Deacon showed her a terminal that opened a thick security gate, giving her the password and letting her input the commands.

“Feel like you’re in a spy novel yet?” he asked.

“I haven’t read too many of those. Usually stuck to the easy-readers. Honestly, I read enough complicated stuff at work that reading more at home sounded like a nightmare. I always liked the ones with good endings. You know, the two get together and settle down. Girl achieves her dream. Lost dog comes home. Happy.” Her voice had gone nostalgic and she shook herself. “Listen to me carry on. I have a contact to find. So, where’s this one?”

“That one’s pretty easy to find. Mailbox just in front of an old clothing store on the waterfront. Head north towards the Charles, but stick to the alleys. Raiders like to set up camp right on the water. The mailbox will have a railsign on it, just like I showed you before. The rest is a piece of cake.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

Deacon chuckled at this, the sound wry. “Welcome to the Railroad, Fixer.”

 

The dead drop led her in search of a safehouse, or home that any synth could live in until they were safely escorted out of the Commonwealth. This one, the note told her, used to be a hospital. She remembered the building from before the bombs fell, though little remained of the life-saving hospital. It was infested with a raider gang and said raiders had, she thought with disgust, quite ruined the place.

Thankfully, most of the raiders were asleep and she was able to work her way in far enough to get a good report on the location. “This place would have made a fine safehouse,” she said to herself as she inspected the area. Truly, a lot of the equipment was still intact and useful. She wondered just how much of it was utilized by the Railroad until the raiders had taken over.

Soon enough she found the report she was looking for. Located in a trash can marked with the telltale symbol, the small holotape was labeled AUGUSTA. She pocketed it carefully, retracing her steps and narrowly avoiding a few patrolling raiders on her way out.

Carrington took the holotape without hesitation, playing it on a small recorder at his desk. “Thank you for bringing this to me,” he said without looking up. There was a harshness to his features, born of a barely-concealed rage. “No doubt I’ll have more later, but right now I have to work on this.”

He pushed a small bag of caps into her hands, as well as a box containing a few medical supplies. She took them and stowed it all away in her pack, knowing better than to argue. 

She took some time to rest, finding a seat on a ragged sofa that overlooked a large chalkboard. On it was several different names, one of which was Augusta. She assumed that the others were safehouses as well, and question marks by them indicated their status. There were also names of several Railroad agents. Her name had been scratched onto the list, underneath someone named Glory. Tommy Whispers had already been crossed off the list.

“You’re one of us now.”

Rebecca looked over to see Desdemona leaning against a nearby pillar. The group’s leader looked exhausted but her eyes remained alert. A cigarette was perched between her fingers as she stood there, end burning with a faint glow. She pushed away from the pillar and approached, gesturing to the board with one hand.

“I heard about Augusta,” she continued and her voice was quiet. “I fear that most of the others have met the same fate. P.A.M. will verify the ones we do get in contact with, and only after this will we resume normal communications. It will be a long road. Well done on your first solo mission. Of course, this isn’t the time for praise or glory. But thank you.”

Desdemona crossed Augusta off the list of safehouses, movements slow and contemplative. “Raiders and mutants are as much a threat as anything else. We never really forget the threat they pose, but it comes as a surprise all the same. One doesn’t expect an entire building to be overrun so quickly.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Desdemona warned evenly. “That was not your doing. There will be more moments like this and you should be ready to face them. You may be sent out to investigate one of the others, or called to escort a synth out of danger. You’re a full agent now, Fixer. And we’re at war.”

She was not being dramatic. It was a fact of their operations. The Railroad ran against what everyone assumed to be the Commonwealth’s greatest enemy. And they did it alone.

Rebecca remained silent as she absorbed this. That this group had lived so long without being exposed or completely wiped out impressed her. They must’ve had their setbacks, and the fall of the Switchboard had understandably hit them hard, but they kept going. Resilient and willing to risk it all for the cause they believed in.

“Well, if the rest of the Commonwealth would get with the program, that would be a great help. Imagine if everyone actually stood against the Institute? Instead of living in fear and pointing fingers at the next person in line? God, the work that would actually get done.” Rebecca couldn’t help but picture a world where the Commonwealth had been rebuilt. The thought collided sharply with her prewar life and she sighed, wondering if she was ever going to get any of her life together again.

Desdemona exhaled slowly. “Not everyone in the Commonwealth feels the same way we do. I agree, if everyone would stand together things would indeed change. Rebuilding the world is a good cause, but one we are not suited for. Maybe someday we can help. But not while the Institute still stands.”

“You have plans to take it out?”

“That is a discussion for another day. Ideally, putting a stop to the Institute would help the Commonwealth. But we are in no shape, and have no real plans, to manage that. So we keep doing what we do best. And right now that is reconnecting with our safehouses and escorting what synths we can.” Finished with her cigarette, Desdemona snuffed it underfoot. She nodded in a farewell before leaving, turning her attention back to the work spread out on the center tomb.

Rebecca wondered if she should mention her need to find the Institute. The Railroad had no idea how far her interest went, or that she had such a personal stake in any contact made. But what would they think? If wasn’t their business that she was chasing her tail in search of her son. They had their own worries and problems. 

Glancing up at the chalkboard again, she realized that the best way to get to her destination was to help someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Have a great week.


	11. Chapter 11

Dogmeat’s frenzied barking caused much stir. Usually an easy-going dog by nature, he rarely barked unless there was danger or some kind of major disturbance. The settlers of Sanctuary had gotten used to the pup being underfoot (or under the table at mealtimes), and so this uncharacteristic show caught them all off guard.

“What’s he after?” Sturges asked, pausing in his work and peering around the corner.

Several others echoed this as Dogmeat streaked down the road towards something. Anna’s hand reached for her plasma rifle, ready for a fight, until she recognized the bark. It was no warning sound.

“He found someone. Someone he likes, I’d wager.” She laughed at this and jogged down the road to see who he had wanted so badly to see. “I thought so. It’s alright, guys, there’s no danger here. She’s a friend.”

Preston had come running at the sound but stopped when he, too, spotted Dogmeat. “Is that her?” he asked quietly, nodding towards the newcomer. 

“Yeah.”

“Good. She made it.”

The two approached the woman in the middle of the road. She and Dogmeat were playing, the canine huffing happily as she got down on all fours and ruffled his fur. Anna watched them with amusement, unwilling to break up their happiness.

“If Dogmeat vouches for her, then she’s fine in my book,” Preston said. This caught the woman’s attention and she looked up in surprise. The man offered her a welcoming smile and held out one hand. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minuteman. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Rebecca,” the woman replied. She stood up and dusted off her pants. They shook hands and she looked around, eyes wide. “This is...I didn’t think I’d be back so soon. Ellie said some people had moved in and that you wanted to see me. She didn’t say who you were. Minutemen? I’ve never heard of them before.”

She was only stating the truth. Preston waved a hand to indicate the town. “It’s a long story and I’d be happy to explain it all later. These settlers have been with me for a long time. I’ve escorted them across the Commonwealth looking for a place to stay. When we heard of this town, we decided to make our home here.” He fell silent here and glanced at his feet before looking up again. “I was told you used to live here. I hope we aren’t overstepping any boundaries here, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Rebecca glanced around a second time, gaze lingering on the repairs being made. She started to spin the wedding ring on her finger.

Anna wanted to reassure her, but knew that this was something Rebecca had to decide for herself. She was the one who had ties to this place, and Anna wasn’t sure if that meant she would feel possessive or just nostalgic.

“Of course not. You guys need a home.” Rebecca smiled at last and though there was pain in her eyes, she kept it to herself. “Yes, I used to live here. That was a long time ago. Not that you really need my permission, but you guys are welcome to settle here and make it your home. Do whatever you like.”

Preston seemed relieved to hear this. “Thank you. You’re welcome to stay here with us, if you’d like. We could always use more help to rebuild.”

Rebecca ended up wanting to see what the settlers had done so far. She was curious, mostly, but the grief was still clinging to her like an old sweater.  At her request, Anna walked with her as she explored her old home. She visited each house, recalling with varying emotions the families that had lived in each. Some she remembered fondly, others with irritation or disgust. Several of the houses had been reinforced and the others were marked for dismantling. 

Rebecca’s house had not been touched. She shook her head when Anna asked if she wanted to go inside, claiming that she already had. “It’s just like I remembered it. Falling apart of course, but a lot of it is in the same place it was the day the bombs fell. It sounds like Codsworth’s busy anyway. I’ll catch him in a bit.”

Rebecca walked away and Anna looked over her shoulder at the home. The bot was still inside, reorganizing the few belongings like he always was. She thought that he would be overjoyed to talk to Rebecca, but she kept the thought to herself. 

They headed down to the river and the field that had been set up. The two settlers there waved a greeting and Rebecca seemed caught off guard by their friendly nature.

“I wasn’t expecting to get such a welcome,” she mused as she looked over the shallow river. Rusted barrels and other debris still prevented it from running smoothly. “These people have been through hell, haven’t they? And then I just come along and the people in charge just let me in?”

Anna shrugged. “You forget the nature of settlements like these. They are built with stray people needing a place to live. All kinds of people get together and make it work.” She rolled up the sleeves on her jacket and sat down on the stone wall. “If you’re not a threat and you pull your own weight, people will share a surprising amount with you. Food, clean water, even a bed and clothing. It’s almost an unspoken rule out here in the Commonwealth.”

“I suppose.” Rebecca sat beside her, swinging her legs out over the river. “It’s great that people are coming back, though. Not just here, but the rest of the area as well. The world is coming back. Slowly, of course.”

Nostalgia mixed with Rebecca’s grief. Anna looked over and saw her staring out over the hills behind the nearest houses. A small playground stood in the distance where an old swing set and climbing bars still stood. The scavver smiled faintly at this, picturing her friend playing there with her son in some alternate universe.

“I keep thinking I can get my life back,” Rebecca spoke again. She wiped at her eyes and looked down at her hands. She spun the wedding band around her finger some more. A nervous tick, maybe. “Get Shaun back. Make a home here. But all I’m doing is chasing a fantasy, right? A dream that will never come true.”

Anna winced at the rawness of that statement. “I wish I could turn back time for you, Ev. Bring it all back and rewrite history.” Her words were barely audible. She felt helpless. It hurt, not knowing what to do to help her friend. Even if -  _ when _ \- they found her son, it wouldn’t change the past. So instead she just sat there. When Rebecca was ready to continue the search, they would go. Until then, she could only take it one step at a time. Take each day as it was and be kind to herself. 

A while passed, both watching the sunlight reflect off the water beneath their feet.

“I don’t know if I’ll move in,” Rebecca said suddenly. “The thought of living in my old house again - I just don’t know. It’s too soon, probably. I really shouldn’t be making this decision right now.” She stood up and turned to face the town. Her grief had disappeared, buried by a sudden purpose. “Ellie told me that these people have a power armor suit? I’ll have to ask them about it later. Do you think they’ll let me borrow it?”

“I didn’t ask,” Anna said honestly. She had seen the suit in the main house and Barnum had mentioned finding it at the Museum of Freedom. It was stable, he had told her, if old and covered in rust. The fusion core currently inside it was still over half, but Anna had no idea how many it would take to make the trip to the Glowing Sea. “One of them brought it here. I didn’t want to say too much about your plans. Thought I’d leave that to you.”

“I appreciate it. I’ll have to talk to him about it. I’m going to go find him and see what I can do. And there’s something else, too. But afterword.” Rebecca shrugged, glancing towards the end of town. “Thanks, Anna. I’ll see you later.”

Anna frowned at her friend’s determination. Rebecca had covered her grief so quickly and with such purpose that it scared her. Though she couldn’t fault Rebecca for feeling conflicted about being here, as she could only imagine the pain she must be feeling, but this sudden shift was bad news. Rebecca had been dealt a heavy hand in life and Anna knew that stuff like that left scars.

“Yeah. Go ahead and make your plans. I’ll catch up.”

 

Barnum listened carefully to Rebecca’s story, hands twisting together in front of him. “So you’re telling me you want to travel into the most radioactive - not to mention just plain deadly - place in the entire Commonwealth?” he asked. He noticed how her face hardened and hurried to continue. “Alright, alright. The suit doesn’t have enough power to get you there and back, but with another core you’ll be good to go. Traders sometimes carry them. I’ve sold one or two in my day. Tell you what,” he said and gestured to her to follow. He led to way over to the makeshift garage that had been made against the side of one of the houses. “I’ll send out a call over the radio, and see if any of my old friends can find you one. In the meantime, we’ll fix this baby up and get her ready for the trip.”

Inside the garage, which was little more than some metal sheets riveted together and attached to the house, stood the suit of power armor. It was covered in rust and stooped in the harness they had hooked it into. Rebecca wondered if it would make the trip even with several fresh batteries. The thing looked about ready to fall apart.

B caught her dubious frown. “I know she doesn’t look like much, but underneath all that tarnish is some solid machinery. She kept me safe from a deathclaw and then trooped all the way up here. Real craftsmanship, I say. You stand in one of these, you mean business.” 

Rebecca touched the metal and smiled faintly. Warren had worn one a few times in his service.  _ You feel like you can pick up a car, _ he had written in one of his letters.  _ The suit does all the work for you. It’s a bit to get used to, though. Just finding that balance, you know, between trying to move and letting the suit work itself.  _

“You think you could teach me? I’ve heard that it’s a bit of an adjustment.”

B nodded. “Sure can. I’m not sure how I scared the raiders that day, with how wobbly I was at first. But it shouldn’t take you long to figure it out. Hell, if I did it, well...heh.” He chuckled and the two of them left the garage again. As B wasn’t much of a mechanic, he agreed to leave the work to either Sturges or Anna. 

Outside, Rebeca glanced to the north end of town. There, most of the homes had been ruined by the passing centuries. Scrap had been taken from each of them to reinforce the homes still standing, or to build new creations like the garage or a gate that was being designed for the bridge. As the two of them meandered down the street, she let her thoughts travel to the hills beyond the town.

“Hey, do you think you guys could help me with something else? It’s nothing big.”

“Of course. What didja need?”

“Warren and the others...they’re still up there. In the vault. When I left I wasn’t able to do anything about it. I was wondering…” she trailed off and bit her lip. “Could I get some help getting them out of there? Finally bury them as they should have been a long time ago.”

The man stopped and followed her gaze. “We sure can,” he said softly. There was grief in his eyes as he stood there, as if he pictured the people she spoke of.  “You just say the word, and we’ll head up there.

She smiled at his easy understanding. “Thanks. I do it myself, but hey. These arms aren’t strong enough by themselves.” Lifting her sleeve, she flexed and was faintly surprised to note the muscle she had apparently gained. 

“I dunno,” B replied, eyeing her arm. “With those guns, you could arm wrestle a deathclaw. I could have used your help back in Concord. Hell, are you sure you need that power armor? Might want to give it to Valentine instead.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Rebecca said with a laugh. His teasing was a welcome distraction to her suddenly morose mood. “No, I think even he’s got me beat. Lawyers don’t need to be strong. Well, not this kind of strength anyway. Come on, let’s go grab a few others and see what we can do.”

Several others were happy to help as well. Anna and Nick were among the first to volunteer, followed by Preston and a few of the new settlers. Others offered to start digging in the area she had chosen. The support floored the vault dweller and she turned away, hiding the tears that suddenly blurred her vision. 

Rebecca led the way up the rocky path to the vault. The group followed her at a distance, a metal sheet held between two settlers that would be used as a makeshift stretcher. As she reached the top of the hill, she closed her eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath and looking out over the vault’s entrance, she pushed away her trepidation. She was stronger now and had friends that (literally) stood at her back. She could face these memories.

The group gathered in the center of the steel platform. One settler offered to stay behind and work the controls, nodding to Rebecca before taking a seat in the branded control room. When they were ready, he pressed the button and the lift shuddered to life.

Anna reached out and placed a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. The reassurance calmed her nerves and, when the lift finally reached the bottom, she was able to push open the metal gate and lead the way into the vault.

As she navigated the rooms, shivering in the icy air, she thought of the differences between this trip and her rushed escape so many days ago. Then she had been confused; lost and dazed with cold. She had been fresh from cryostasis and wanting only to escape and get help. That day, she had thought only of her immediate survival and her hope that there was still a world to return to. 

Now she walked with another purpose. She burned with the need to find her son and free him from his captors. Commonwealth boogeyman or no, she did not plan to sit idle while the Institute got away with so many unspeakable crimes. Her ruined life being only one of them.

Rebecca stopped at the threshold of the final room. The air smelled of cold metal and death. Frost shimmered on the walls and she wished that she’d thought to bring a coat. The familiar cryo pods lined the walkway before her, all but one holding an occupant still. She made her way to the final one, peering past the frosted glass to see Warren’s familiar features in repose. 

“I’m here,” she whispered and placed a hand on the window. She knew that her husband couldn’t hear her anymore. The bullet wound on his chest, encrusted with ice, proved that. He was dead and there was only her now. “It’s okay. I’m going to find our son and bring him home. You...can rest now. Please.”

 

They had always looked out for each other. 

She remembered the hours in high school working in that ice cream parlour out on the pier. Her parents had blatantly refused to send her to college and so she saved every penny she could. Warren had stopped by each day and asked for the save thing: a small chocolate cone. He had never pressured her, but something about his thoughtful nature had caught her attention. One day after work she had invited him to dinner out on the pier. 

They had sat there for hours, dipping fries into their milkshakes as they watched the sunset. Cheesy though it was, she remembered that day fondly. She could still taste the salt from their fries.

When he had traveled away for basic training, the ink still wet on their marriage certificate, she had sent him letters and packages of his favorite chocolate candies. And when he had returned from combat, frustrated with the lack of communication and disheartened by the death, she had held him and went with him as he sought therapy. 

It had tested their relationship, but those long months had brought them closer. They had ignored the mocking whispers of the uneducated and the jeering of the ignorant. They taken his troubles step-by-step until he was okay again. She had held his hand and walked with him, reminding him that he was safe and he was more than the simple soldier they had broken him to be.

That darkness had passed in time. Warren had found another job and was happy again. Months passed and she had, quite unexpectedly, found herself pregnant. It had not been something they had wanted (instead wanting to focus on each other), but they had accepted it and slowly warmed to the idea of raising a child together. He had rubbed her sore back and brought her box after box of snack cakes, his love enduring even when she was sick each morning.

Her work was never easy, either. Clients, both the ones she wanted to help and those that she had been appointed to, called her frequently for advice. Hard, stone-faced judges that sat behind their oak desks. Criminal bosses always tried to run the city. A few of the other lawyers spoke condescending, oily words. Often she had come home from work frustrated, kicking off her painful heels and falling gracelessly onto the couch.

Warren had been there then. Holding out a steam mug of coffee - or glass of wine on the harder days - and offering a listening ear. 

She had gotten the boot after she had discovered her pregnancy, the firm claiming that a pregnant lawyer would be bad for their reputation. She was emotional and therefore unreliable, the papers had all but said. They had no need for her. Warren had let her rage and vent before holding her tight and reassuring her that she was better than they were. When their child was born, she could find another firm or start her own. They were a team and he would help her figure it out.

 

“I’ll figure it out now,” she mused as she stared at Warren’s face. She committed it to memory: the mouth that so often held a laugh or tiny smile, the thick hair she had loved to run her fingers through, the nose that had always scrunched up just so in thought. “Good-bye, Warren. It’s okay.”

Rebecca pulled away, scrubbing her hand down her face. “Let’s do this one at a time,” she said and her voice was hoarse croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Take one out at a time. Then we can seal this place up for good.”

The others snapped into action. Slowly the vault was emptied of its innocent inhabitants, each carried by the friends who acted as pallbearers. Anna remained by her side until the end, saying nothing as the time passed.

Soon it was time for Warren’s pod to be opened. Rebecca stepped back as the cryo pod hissed, the front swinging upward. She could almost hear his confused words and hear Shaun’s cries as Kellogg came to call. But this time there was an eerie silence as the group gently pulled his body from its seat. She held up a hand and they paused, looking to her for direction. Her fingers closed around Warren’s wedding band. She pulled it free and clutched it to her chest, nodding numbly for them to continue.

The group carried Warren’s body outside. Rebecca followed, casting one last look over the room before joining them on the lift. On the surface, she waved a hand and the control panel was purposefully jammed. No one would ever enter Vault 111 again.

“I’m so sorry,” Nick Valentine said as they lowered Warren’s body into the final grave. He stood to her right, hat held in his hands. 

Rebecca nodded slowly at this, accepting his words even though he had no part in their deaths. She would get no apology from Vault-Tec for their failed cryo test, or from the prewar government for destroying the world. 

As the graves were filled, Preston and the settlers working together, she tried to think of something to say. There needed to be words - some kind of eulogy. She struggled to come up with the right right ones to say. Everything sounded empty to her.

“Did you want to say something, ma’am?” Preston asked when they were done, swiping his hat from his head as well. 

Something had to be said. Anything. She gave the Minuteman a teary smile and stepped forward. Standing over the graves for a few moments, she tried to compose herself. Her voice would crack. She would cry. 

“Our world might be changed.” Rebecca spoke at last.  Fingers twitching, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and closed her eyes. She closed out everything but the memories of the people buried before her. “Some would say gone. Ended. Ruined. War took everything from us and left us here. So many are like us - victims of another’s choices.”

The tears fell once more and this time she didn’t fight it. “But the world moves on. People have returned and are m-making this place their home again. Here. Sanctuary. Where we once planned to spend our lives. And so, so many other places. The world has just adapted. We are helping it to heal. Someday, it will be better. Maybe not like before, but a home regardless.” 

She paused for a moment, feeling the hot tears drip off her chin. “You will n-not be forgotten. People will walk through town and see the dreams you once had. Dreams we all once had. And they’ll think of the place we left to them. And in time, it’ll all be okay. We’ll figure it all out. We are figuring it out, Warren. We’ll be okay.” Here she opened her eyes and smiled down at her husband’s grave. “I’ll be okay. And the town will continue in all of your memories. A sanctuary to anyone who needs it.”

When she stepped back, she noticed several of the others turned away or rubbing at their eyes. Anna had taken Nick’s hand, weaving their fingers together as they stood, their faces downcast. Barnum wiped his sleeve across his eyes. Mama Murphy and Preston stood together, the latter nodding solemnly at her last words. Codsworth, watching the funeral in silence, hovered nearby.

“Damn right,” Barnum said after a few moments of silence. His voice was strong and sure. “We’ll make this place into a beacon of hope. It starts here and now. From now on, we make these folks here proud.” He looked up and Rebecca smiled at him, delighted at the idea. 

The crowd slowly dispersed, people returning to their work as the impromptu funeral ended. Rebecca took a seat before Warren’s grave when everyone else was gone, choosing to remain there as a vigil. She replayed many of their memories in her mind, happy and sad alike, and allowed herself to fully cry. There were no more barriers or checks on her emotions. It was time she let it all out and finally - after so long keeping a leash on her tears - let her grief go.

After a while she felt a presence behind her. She turned and saw Codsworth floating just past the fence. He was holding out a blanket to her expectantly.

“Mum.” Hesitantly, he drew closer. “Please, I know you want to stay out here. But I’d hate for you to get cold. Will you take this, at least?”

“Of course. Thank you, Codsworth.” She stood and accepted the blanket, shaking it out and drawing it around her shoulders. It was old and riddled with holes, but warm enough. The action touched her and she reached out to place a hand on the bot’s chassis. “Really. You’ve always been so great to us. I’m glad that you’re still here.”

Codsworth seemed a bit puzzled by her praise. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he deflected politely. “I am honored to do whatever I can. You ever need anything, mum, please say so.”

She chuckled at his evasion. He seemed pleased, however much he tried to hide it behind his impeccable manners, and she took that as enough for now. “Alright, I will. Goodnight, Codsworth.”

“Yes, indeed. Goodnight, mum.”

When he floated away again she returned to her spot. Seating herself, she got comfortable and settled in for the night. This was one night she would devote to her former life and those from it. Tomorrow, she would return to her quest for Shaun. But right now, all she wanted to to was lose herself in her memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please, feel free to leave a comment or a kudos. It means a lot to me to get feedback.   
> Have a great week!


	12. Chapter 12

Work continued at Sanctuary over the next few weeks. Rebecca spent much of it in her old home: reinforcing the walls and roof, cleaning away the centuries of grime, and making it comfortable again. The last part was her favorite. She straightened what was left of the furniture and then looked elsewhere for replacements. She decorated as well as she could, taking her time to pick what she liked from what was available. With Codsworth’s help, the house slowly became a home again.

Though it still pained her to be living in the same building, she pushed past it and decided to think of the future. It could serve as a home for more than just her. When the time came to bring Shaun back, the old nursery could become his bedroom. And even when she was traveling, the house could be used by anyone who needed a place to sleep.

She made her way back to the Old North Church after a while. Checking in with Deacon and the others, she was given more dead drops to complete and even a cache of supplies to find. The reach of the Institute never ceased to amaze her, as several of the dead drops led her to abandoned or destroyed safehouses. And a last one, Randolph, had gone dark for so long it was put under a sort of quarantine.

When she had gained enough respect from the other agents, Desdemona assigned her to a particularly sensitive mission out near Bunker Hill. A rescued synth needed escorted, and she was to provide armed backup. That mission led to a long night, and she found that all of her “people” skills were tested. From getting the information from the contact named Stockton, to meeting the agent High Rise, it had been necessary to speak in coded phrases and hidden words.

But it had been worth it. Rebecca had to hold herself back from comforting the synth, a runaway named H2-22, and telling them that everything would be fine. Not only could her words be a lie (due to the number of dangers in the area), but there had been no time for pleasantries. Instead, she settled with a kind smile and a trigger finger ready to fight off any raider or mutant.

Helping H2, and seeing the kind of work that went into a single escort mission, had driven home the need to stop the Institute. If they wanted to reclaim an innocent like H2, and reprogram them due to some so-called “malfunction”, well, Rebecca would fight every last one of them.

Deacon had offered her a beer upon her return to headquarters. “C’mon, Fixer, it’s tradition,” he had said with a laugh. “First successful run. Now drink it and be merry.”

So she had accepted the alcohol, but kept her celebratory cheers in check. H2 was one of many synths that would need help getting away from the Institute. There was work to be done, and even then, the struggle for freedom was not about her.

Due to the number of safehouses destroyed, she had also been tasked with setting up a new one. Clearing the giant bugs and a handful of ferals, she had paved the way for a caretaker to take in synths. This work had given her an idea, and she promised herself to keep her eyes open for more spots to clear out.

When the incoming work had died down, Rebecca had returned to Sanctuary. While she was gone, Codsworth had taken it upon himself to find her some more clothing. The freshly cleaned and mended material, done with such care, had made her feel quite welcome. Even if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to make a permanent home in Sanctuary, she knew that she had a permanent part of the community.

   

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Sure ya do. Otherwise, everyone in town would go blind.”

Anna scoffed and peered around her bedroom door. “Nothing good to wear. They’re throwing a goddamn _dinner party_. It’s not like I own a gown. I don’t even know if there’s one of those in the entire Commonwealth. And even then...this body in a gown?” She shuddered with exaggerated theatrics. “Now that will make people go blind.”

Nick laughed at her response. Seated at the counter, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as she disappeared back behind the door frame. “I dunno. Might be somethin’ worth investigation,” he teased. When she made a rude noise, sound muffled as she ransacked her dresser, he chuckled and returned to the clipboard in front of him. On it where schematics, drawings of some sort of fiber that could be added to clothing. Rebecca had dropped it off a few days prior.

Their suspicions about her travels along the Freedom Trail had been correct. She had joined the Railroad and was now an agent. She kept the rest of her secrets close to the vest, but Nick could understand why. With how secretive said organization was, it was a shock that she had even mentioned it at all.

When she had disappeared from Sanctuary again, taking supplies for a trip back into the city, they both figured that she had work to do.

Well, Nick had no complaints. He had worked with the Railroad before, though not directly as a member. A synth or two, helped out of a tough spot by some agent, had stopped by the agency on their way to Goodneighbor. Offering them a place to bed down, and some supplies for the rest of the journey, he had been happy to help. Those synths had needed it at the time, and he had provided it.

And who knew? Maybe the Railroad could help Rebecca find the Institute.

“Fine. This is the best I got.” Anna left her bedroom and held out her hands.

Nick glanced up and set the clipboard aside. She wore a faded, though carefully tended to, blazer over an old tunic. Her jeans had been mended and scrubbed clean. She had cleaned her boots earlier, digging out all of the mud from the soles with a stick. It had been comical, really, her sudden assault on the poor shoes.

“You look good,” he commented quietly, eyes meeting hers. He glanced away then, ducking his chin in order to hide his expression. The ease of that admission, that causal intimacy, was nice. But sometimes it sure made him feel like he was tripping over his own feet.

Anna did not laugh at his sudden shyness and instead reached out, taking his hand and pulling him off the chair. “Thanks, handsome. Now let’s get going. I’ve wasted enough time and we don’t want to be late to the party.”

 

Sanctuary could now boast a gate, a solid thing made from metal sheets and fallen logs. When the duo arrived, the shadows of evening stretching out across the rocky hills, the settler on watch waved them inside with a grin. The gate shut behind them, hinges squealing loudly.

“Enjoy the food,” the settler said and turned back to their post. “They’ve been cooking all day. Something about some old recipes someone had.”

People gathered on an open foundation. The house itself had been dismantled a while before, metal siding and other material scavenged and used to reinforce the homes still standing. In its place was a makeshift dining area.

Tables of all sorts clustered together on the stone foundation. Plastic round ones, large wooden ones, small metal ones that looked like they belonged in a medical clinic. They were joined by a jumble of random chairs. Lanterns were placed on each of the tables, providing a warm, welcoming glow that chased away the shadows. Anna thought it was cozy, though the lack of a roof could pose a problem if it rained.

At one side of the area stood a long table, food spread out across its surface. From the delicious smells alone, it was obvious that someone had put quite a bit of effort into the endeavor.

Dogmeat sniffed eagerly at the dishes, his tail wagging back and forth. Anna eyed him carefully, ready to call him back, but the pup eventually turned away. He was too polite to steal, but she figured that someone - or several someones - would feed him scraps anyway. Dogmeat could charm the sandwich out of just about anyone.

Several people were already seated. Most of the original settlers - Mama Murphy, the Longs, and the others - were gathered together in one corner. Others spread out across the foundation in loose groups or by themselves. Anna took a moment to marvel at the number of people that had moved in ever since the radio beacon had been set up. The idea of so many people coming together gave her heart.

“You want to find a seat?” Anna asked.

The detective nodded. “Lead the way.”

His fingers twisted against his coat as they approached. His eyes flickered across the table of food. Though he usually enjoyed such gatherings for the sense of community, the smell of so much food - food that he couldn’t eat - wasn’t exactly pleasant. Anna had learned long ago not to comment on his inability to eat.

Movement caught her attention and she turned around. Codsworth greeted her politely before floating on past, bearing a last plate of food. On his head was a small bowler hat. Behind him came Rebecca, the vault dweller garbed in a prewar skirt and jacket.

“Is that a...hat?” Anna asked, indicating the bot with a jerk of her chin.

Rebecca smiled. “I found it in an old store the other day, when I was coming back from the city. Storefront looked mostly intact, so I figured I’d see what kind of hats they had in stock.” The phrase had both women laughing. “Honestly, it looked like no one had touched the place since before the war. It had all kinds of hats. I thought that one would look the best on him.”

“Good choice. Seems he likes it too.”

“Oh, he does. Not that he expected such a present. Codsworth was always like that, though.” She shook her head in amusement as the bot set the dish down and took a stance near the table. “C’mon. I dug up some old recipes and...well, I had to get some help adapting them to our world, but I think most of it turned out okay.”

Our world. Anna caught this choice of words and glanced over at her friend. There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, and an eagerness to her steps. Whether it was because of the celebration, or some other reason, Anna was thankful.

"It’s coming along so well,” Rebecca said. She gestured and the trio claimed a table off to the side. “The town, I mean. The houses are about as good as we can make them, and we’ve started making some others. The crops are growing just fine, too. Thanks for bringing them over.”

“Don’t mention it,” Anna said easily. “There’ll be more around here. That’s where I got all my crops. So, tell me about these dishes. What kind of magic did you use to make such a feast?”

Rebecca launched into an explanation of the recipe book she had found under the kitchen sink in her old home. The pages were brittle and the ink faded, but enough had survived for her to work with. Later, she said with a grin, she planned on copying it over into a new book.

The food was amazing. Anna could count on one hand the number of times she had eaten so well. There was radstag, cooked on an old contraption Rebecca called a grill. Tatos and corn, and plenty of hearty bits of more radstag, made into a stew. Wild mutfruit baked until they were soft and juicy.

“Everyone was so eager to help out,” Rebecca continued. She popped the top off a bottle of Nuka-Cola and stuffed the cap into a pocket. “Someone went out hunting and gave me tips for cooking the radstag. Another showed me where to find the mutfruit patch along the river. Codsworth and I spent all day in the house putting this together. It was a lot of work, but...well, what do you think? Everything taske okay?”

“Absolutely. I haven’t eaten like this in a long time.” Anna made a note to sit down with Rebecca and trade recipes. She wanted to try some of the prewar ones, and maybe some of the ones she had come up with could end up in the book.

“Well, from the looks of things, I’d say you did pretty good.” Nick nodded towards the other table, where the serving dishes were quickly emptying. People stood up regularly to refill their plates and it was obvious there wouldn’t be much left over.

Rebecca flushed at the praise and turned back to her plate. Dogmeat wandered back over and sat next to her. She glanced down and laughed, reaching out to scratch under his chin. “You silly beast,” she teased. “I suppose you want some of this. How could I have guessed?”

Much later, Anna leaned back in her chair and placed a hand on her stomach, eyeing the empty plate dubiously. At her feet, Dogmeat sighed and put his head down on his paws. The pup was the epitome of contentment. As she had predicted, several settlers had tossed him bites of food and he hadn’t hesitated to beg for more. “I won’t have to eat for a couple of days after this. Thanks for the meal, Ev. It was fantastic.”

“You’re welcome. I wanted to throw some kind of party for everyone. Everyone here works so hard. I think we all deserve a night to celebrate.” Rebecca stood and helped Codsworth gather up the leftovers. Anna and Nick hurried to join her.

As there was still work to be done on each building’s lighting, Rebecca’s house stood dark. Codsworth entered the building confidently, twisting his arms as he went through the door. The others followed closely behind, setting their dishes down on the counter in the kitchen before Rebecca reached out and lit the lantern standing there.

“How about I bring in the rest, mum?” Codsworth suggested. At the vault dweller’s thankful nod, he left the house again.

“You sure know how to throw one hell of a party,” Nick said with a chuckle. “It boosted everyone’s spirits.”

Rebecca accepted this with a smile. “I’m glad everyone had fun.” She busied herself at the counter as she carefully wrapped the food up and stored it in the cooler next to the old, rusted refrigerator.

When all the food was accounted for, some of it divided and shared with the other settlers, the trio gathered in the front room. Anna leaned forward and sank her fingers into Dogmeat’s thick fur. Beside her, Nick stretched out his legs and turned to look outside. There, the sun had long since set and thrown the small town into darkness. Only lanterns, held by a settler or hanging off a wooden post, lit the street. It was a comfortable sight, cozy and welcoming. Sanctuary was indeed coming together.

And so was Rebecca. Since they had helped her bury the dead from Vault 111, she had been much calmer and some joy had come into her eyes. Though there was still grief, as there would always be, she had closed that chapter and was ready to continue her journey.

But when that would happen, Anna did not know. No merchant had made it to Sanctuary yet, let alone one bearing a fusion core. The one that still sat in the power armor would get her to the Glowing Sea, but they weren’t sure if she could make it any farther on the same charge. And she couldn’t afford to run out of fuel.

In the meantime, she had learned how to use the power armor properly. Though Barnum wasn’t an expert, he was the only one they knew that had used it. That made him the most qualified teacher, and he had taken to it happily. Within hours, Rebecca had managed to get accustomed to the suit’s limitations (fine-motor skills and moving quietly), as well as its boons (superior strength and damage resistance). She was as ready as she could be.

Anna had taken that same time to patch up the suit. She had been unable to trust it without looking it over. She had been horrified to find several weak spots, and a gap in the suit’s sealant. It wasn’t surprising, of course. She had fixed it promptly, studying the suit and taking notes for any further repairs. Only then had she pronounced it ready.

Because, goddammit, Rebecca’s story would not end in the Glowing Sea.

Anna dragged herself to the present to see that Codsworth was at work in the kitchen, straightening the collection of belongings Rebecca had already brought in. Said vault dweller glanced up at him and waved a hand, beckoning him over to join them.

“C’mon Codsworth. You need some rest.”

“As a matter of fact, I do not.” The bot spun around with a flourish. “I’m built without the need for rest or food. General Atomic’s finest work, I say.”

“Still,” Rebecca countered. “You’ve done so much. Even just today. You deserve it.”

As the bot drifted closer, his attention was suddenly focused on something outside. “Is that Mister Garvey? It seems that something’s amiss. I do hope it’s nothing too serious.”

The others followed the bot’s gaze to see the Minuteman in question, radio in hand. He hurried down the street to where Barnum and a few others were standing. As he spoke into the radio, he started to frantically wave one hand.

“Do we have anyone outside the gate?” Rebecca asked, but the answer was obvious. At this time of night, and directly after the town-wide meal, no one would be assigned to scouting outside town. “It must be someone else. How far does that beacon go?”

“Far enough to reach some of the nearby farms, I’d guess. Must be one of them calling, and that means bad news.” Anna stood up and the others followed her out of the house. Her gaze flickered down the street towards the gate, a horrible churning in her gut. She thought of her plasma rifle, left leaning against the sofa.

Barnum glanced up at their approach. His face was dark. “Preston and I are headed out. Some people up in Tenpines Bluff need our help. Message was fuzzy so we don’t know what’s up, but it can’t be good.” The laser musket came into his hands naturally, the core glowing red. “Let’s go.”

He and Preston took off at a run, leaving the others standing in shock.

“Calling for help at this time of night?” Nick said with concern. “I don’t want to imagine what could have happened.”

“Tenpines is such a small farm. It could be anything. Wolves. Raiders.” Anna shivered again, knowing just how common such attacks were. The farmers worked hard for the goods they had, but all it took was a band of armed raiders to take it away. “Now the Minutemen are back, though. That might just even the scales. Let’s just hope everyone is alright.”

The others agreed and they turned back to the house. The news had set them all on edge, and the tension in the room was nearly unbearable.

Anna couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety. Tenpines was close. What if it had been raiders, and they came here? Sanctuary was not ready to fight off a threat like that. A vision of the gate being kicked in came to mind. She could almost hear the shatter of gunfire and smell the coppery tang of blood. Raiders sometimes took prisoners, too. Who would they take? Would it be for ransom, or just twisted glee?

Dogmeat sat on her foot and leaned back against her. Turning his head, he nosed her hand until she began to pet him, fingers absently delving into his thick fur. She glanced down at him and smiled. The pup could always sense her moods and knew just when he was needed most.

“I don’t like this,” she said to herself. The threat was too close. She began to pace, arms folded. Fire and ice chased each other through her veins. Round and around. She knew she was being paranoid, and it could have been nothing more than wild dogs. Maybe a pack had moved in too close and the farmers weren’t able to take it out themselves. But something burned at the back of her mind. Some feeling that it was bigger than that.

Nick caught onto her mood as well. Leaving Rebecca and Codsworth to their own speculations, he walked over to join her at the door. “You’ve got a scope on that rifle of yours. Why don’t you and I go see what kind of trouble we can get ourselves into?”

He was a saint. Anna smiled in relief and hurried to grab the weapon in question. They headed out, stopping only to let Rebecca know where they were going.

“Was I that obvious?” she asked him as they passed by the gate. It shut solidly behind them, Anna suggesting that it be locked until further notice. The sentry nodded and promised to let them - or the others - in when they returned.

Nick snorted and flipped open his revolver. He checked the chambers, adding a bullet to an empty one, before snapping it shut. “Doll, you were about to burn a hole right through the floor back there. Don’t think Rebecca would thank you for that.”

Shame flashed hot across Anna’s face. Was she really this overworked? She hated to think that she had shown that level of disquiet. She was burdening her friends by letting her fears get the best of her. Everyone was worried. There was no need to add to it.

She stopped and bit her lip. “Sorry. I shouldn’t let this bother everyone else.”

“Hey, now,” the detective said and turned to her. “You got good instincts. Sure, this could turn out to be nothing, but we’d better check.”

It was true. Better to check and find nothing, rather than sit around inside and hope there wasn’t. “Still,” she said with a shake of her head. “No use scaring anyone else.”

They moved quickly, keeping low to the ground and alert to any noise. The night was serene, however. The stream trickled merrily and the stars shone brightly. A lone pair of radstag grazed in the distance. It was as if nothing was wrong.

But Anna could feel it. Some shift in the air, some faint hint of danger.

They approached the truck stop to find it quiet. The land that stretched out beyond the station lay quiet as well. Shadows lurked between the ragged boulders, but not one stirred. Anna’s grip shifted on her rifle and she peered through the scope towards Concord. Nothing.

“Am I crazy? It could just be me. I get like this sometimes,” Anna said and she scuffed her feet in exasperation. Why couldn’t she just shake it once and for all? That raid happened so many years ago. Why did it keep having to interfere with her life? “Maybe the went the other direction. Whatever it is.”

“No, no. I agree that somethin’s up. I’d even have the chills, if that was part of my programming. Let’s check that direction,” Nick said, and they circled back around the station and to the north. “If anyone’s coming this way, the others woulda seen ‘em. So either we’re in the clear, or they’re up in those cliffs.”

“Let’s hope it's the first option.”

They swung by Sanctuary again, traveling along the stream as they made their way towards the cliffs. Anna glanced back at the town and took in its partial fence. “They have no fence this way. Only the river.”

“Somethin’ to keep in mind, huh? When this is over - oh.” Nick stopped, body freezing in place. He turned and inhaled, eyes going wide. Reaching out and catching a hold of Anna’s arm, he pulled her off balance and behind the nearest rocky outcrop. “Somethin’s out there. That stench only means one thing, too.”

Anna slowly crawled up the rock. She flattened herself at the top, shouldering the rifle to peer through the scope. Shadows met her sights and she cursed herself for not installing a night vision filter.

“Shit, you see ‘em yet?” Nick asked. By her feet, he crouched low and ready.

Anna remained silent as she scanned the foothills. Fear skittered in her belly, cold and dangerous. Even with her scope, it would be hard to see them coming. Between the hills and the deep shadows cast by the undulating land, they could come from any direction. And the thought of being out in the open with them caused her palms to sweat.

Super mutants.

She and Nick were veterans in the wasteland, and as such they were both well versed in dealing with its dangers. But she knew that sometimes experience wasn’t enough. Mutants were tough and to be avoided at all costs. Entire alleys in the city were blocked off due to their presence, and everyone knew to hide at the first sign of danger.

Anna knew the hills and she knew how to hide in them. It was a comforting thought, if brief. Their position was a good one. All she needed to do was find where the mutants were coming from. And if they were truly headed towards Sanctuary.

The stench was so strong. Super mutants were difficult to miss. The vile combination of rot and congealed blood, not to mention sour body odor, stuck in the nose. It wasn’t a memory that went away easily. Anna gagged.

“There,” she said at last, but the word was choked out between clenched teeth. A group of the green-skinned mutants moved steadily west. She slid down the rock, stumbling in her rush. “They’re headed right for the town. Far side, away from the gate.”

Without a word, the duo hurried from their position. Boots skidded along rock as they ran. Anna fought to contain her rising fear. Poisonous bile rose in her throat and threatened to choke her. Those creatures - those damned violent mutants - were so close. She had seen their weapons: boards modified with nails and saws caked with blood. Heavy shotguns. She felt helpless. She felt like that scared, bleeding survivor again.

It was happening again. Super mutants attacking in the night.

“We need to get there first,” she hissed. Sanctuary was just across the stream now. “Nick, they aren’t ready. They don’t even have a wall. People are going to die.”

“We’ll handle it,” Nick replied with feeling. He glanced over at the scavver and followed her gaze back towards the hills. “We’re ahead of them. We can do this. We aren’t going to let Sanctuary be destroyed too.”

Anna nodded numbly, rage now mixing with the fear in her stomach. No, she decided. Sanctuary was not going to fall to these mutants. One settlement was more than enough.

She pressed forward, fording the shallow stream and climbing up the other bank. Her hands were tight around her plasma rifle, and she relished the cold metal digging into her palm. It grounded her. The smell of rot had faded with distance, but it came towards them still, like carrion birds on the breeze.

Rebecca caught sight of them and met them halfway. “Oh,” she said simply as she took note of their expressions. “Okay. What’s coming? Can we fight it, or do we need to leave?” Her gaze lifted, peering behind them as if she expected to see the enemy that approached their home.

“Super mutants,” Nick answered. “Small party, a few minutes out. Let’s get everyone together and find ourselves a place to take our stand.”

The vault dweller nodded and took off at a run. Soon the settlers were gathering in the center of town, a makeshift barricade circling them. Tables and lone sheets of metal were all that protected them, but it would have to be enough. There was no more time.

“God, that smell,” one of the settlers said and covered her nose with her sleeve. “Been a while for me. C’mon, let’s teach these brutes that they can’t take what’s ours.”

“And make them think twice before attacking others, too.”

Rebecca was pale, but indignation shone in the tilt of her chin. “Yes. We’ve worked too hard for them to come along and destroy our home. We’re going to send them away with bullets in their backs. They won’t dare come this way again.”

The resounding cheers reassured Anna. These people were going to give the enemy one hell of a fight. Surely, with such determination and vigor, Sanctuary would be fine. She settled down behind the barricade to wait, rifle trained on the foothills.

Moments, mere heartbeats that felt like hours, passed as the settlers waited together. Then from the shadows came sounds. Faint rumbling sounds like thunder at the end of a storm, and ugly, distorted cries of battle. Anna squeezed shut her eyes, ducking her head for a moment to collect herself.

A hand touched her back and she glanced over to see Nick’s reassuring smile. She took it in, as if absorbing the strength he offered, and turned to the mutants that were fording the stream. Shouldering her rifle, she took aim at the first one.

 

For all Rebecca’s bravado, and the settlers’ words, the fight was a long one. The super mutants had crashed into town, shouting challenges. Gunfire broke out as the settlers banded together, the night illuminated in patches of fiery shots. The barricade had held for a while, metal shielding them from the mutant’s shotguns, but it could not protect them from two very determined mutants with close-range weapons.

Rebecca had watched in horror as the barricade came down, metal shrieking against the cold street. Screams, both human and mutant, rang in her ears, a cacophony unique to the nuclear wasteland. The settlers scattered then, trying to avoid the bloodthirsty brutes.

She had stood her ground at first. Refusing to let these brutes take their home or chase down the other settlers, she had waited in the middle of the street. Her laser rifle, though shocking in its intense blue light, had only enraged the mutants. In the end, she too had been forced to back away to another position.

The fight had damaged the town, as the mutants had tore into the homes that the settlers sought shelter in as if chasing prey. Repairs could be made. In time, it could all be fixed.

But human lives could never be replaced.

“Tell me,” she said as she approached Sturges. “Tell me we lost no one. Please.”

The mechanic rubbed the back of his neck, bloody rag in hand. He was seated on a pile of discarded tires. Fatigue and pain creased the skin around his eyes. “Honestly, friend, I don’t know if I can say that. Your robot friend is in there working on them, but...we may have lost a few. The others, though. Some bruises and a quite a few nasty wounds, but that’s it.”

Rebecca collapsed against the main house, her back slamming against the metal siding. A fresh round of tears skated down her face at the thought. People were dead. They had come so far and done such good. All it took was a single raid. One unlucky night. She turned her head to the side and peered over the windowsill and into the house. Inside, a few lanterns shone golden light on the wounded.

“We need a doctor. A proper medical clinic.” She said this and added it to the list she had in her head. Sturges nodded silently, leaning forward over his knees.

The vault dweller resolutely pulled herself from the wall and headed through the door, pulling her jacket tight. Her eyes snagged on the bloodied bandages and empty stimpaks piled to the side. Jun and several settlers lay quietly on the floor, covered in old blankets for warmth. The smell of blood was overpowering.

“Miss Rebecca.” Codsworth approached from the back, slowly floating between the sleepers. “Are you alright? You haven’t been in here yet. You really should be looked at.”

At the bot’s suggestion, she wearily sat in one of the old wooden chairs. “It’s alright, Codsworth. I’m fine. Really. Just a few scrapes.” She counted the aching wounds and then her blessings. She would heal. “No, please care of them. I can go get fresh supplies if we need more.”

“If I may, mum. This wasn’t your fault. Those brutes are known for attacking peaceful settlements. We gave them what for, and we came out on top.” One of his eyes flickered over her as he turned to one of the wounded. Though the Mr. Handy was not a nurse model, he tended to them with the same dedication. “But please, do take care of yourself.”

Rebecca noted his concern. “I will, Codsworth.”

She waited a while, catching her breath. Outside, the night was slowly lifting as the sun touched the horizon. Tiredness clawed at her and she yawned, wincing as it stretched a few of her wounds. Watching the early sunrise she suddenly remembered what had started the night.

“Codsworth, have Preston or B returned yet?”

“No, they have not. I’m sure they’ll be home soon. Don’t worry about them too much.” He moved to her side and held out a can of purified water. “I don’t suppose this will be a happy sight for them.”

The woman accepted the water with a grateful smile and drank deeply. Despite her reassurances, Codsworth insisted on her wellbeing. Truly, she cared more for the grievous wounds of the others, but his attention was touching nonetheless.

“I better be there to meet them. And I’ll write up a list of supplies that we need here.” She stood and left the building, making her way down the street towards the gate.

The street was empty except for empty cartridges and torn, discarded sheets of metal. Among the debris sat Nick and Anna. They sat wearily on the sidewalk, Anna leaning against the detective’s side with her eyes closed. As Rebecca approached them, Anna jerked awake and reached for her rifle.

“Easy, doll,” Nick Valentine warned and placed a hand over hers. He caught Rebecca’s eye. “Is everyone alright in there? No? Damn. That’s a damn shame.”

“We’ll need more supplies, at any rate. I don’t suppose they will bring any back?”

“Only what they took with them, I’d say.”

Anna sat up and shook herself. “I have some at home. It won’t be much, but you’re welcome to all of it.” Pulling herself to a stand, she hooked her weapon onto her back. There were patches of purple under her eyes that stood stark on her sickly pale skin. “I’ll go get them.”

“Is...she alright?” Rebecca asked Nick quietly. “She’s not hurt, is she?”

The detective waved a hand. “Last night took its toll on all of us. You wait here for the others and we’ll go fetch some stims.”

Rebecca watched as they left, their shadows stretching out in the golden sunrise. Her friend had been shaken, but right after such a battle it wasn’t surprising. The bodies of the mutants hadn’t even been disposed of. But the evasiveness of Nick answer, coupled with Anna’s haunted expression, made Rebecca wonder if there was more to it.

It wasn’t her business, she decided. If Anna wanted to disclose such private information, that was her decision.

The vault dweller made her way to the gate and climbed the wooden guard tower. It overlooked the bridge and the hills beyond. She looked east towards the settlement that had called for aid. Dawn burned through the mist and alighted on the cold rocky ground. The wind swept through the shallow valley before her, bearing fresh air that swept away, at least momentarily, the heavy odor in the air.

“As fresh as a nuclear wasteland can be,” she said sadly to herself. The faint scent of something strange, almost like the aftermath of a thunderstorm, clung persistently to the air. She had noticed it stronger in other areas, and the strongest following the radstorm. Radiation then, she mused. For all the news outlets peddling information about said danger, and how it was supposedly scentless, they surely missed the mark.

 

On another pass across the hills, Rebecca caught sight of two familiar shapes. She raised herself to her toes and waved a hand, beckoning the two men closer. As they did so, she took in the haggardness of their appearance.

“Rebecca! Oh thank god.” Barnum hurried through the gate and stopped just short of throwing his arms around her. His eyes fell on the red staining her skirt. The blood drained from his face. Turning, the man took in the town. Even from the gate the damage was clear. “No. No, please no. They made it here, Preston. Those damned super mutants came here too!”

He ran towards the center of town, slowing only when he approached the main house.

Preston sighed heavily and turned to shut the gate. “We ran when we realized the way they were headed. We weren’t quick enough.”

“We may have lost a few people. I checked in with Codsworth a while ago. He’s tending to all the wounded.” Rebecca sighed and spread out her hands. “I don’t know who we’ve lost yet.”

Preston swore. The man closed his eyes and composed himself. “Super mutants. A handful of farmers just don’t stand a chance against them. Everyone’s okay up at Tenpines. They just hid and let the mutants take what they wanted. We wanted to help them rebuild, but didn’t have time. We had to track them down and when we did...thank you for staying here while we went out. All three of you. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy fight but you guys stayed here for us.”

She and the Minuteman joined the others to find Barnum checking in with several of the wounded. Many were awake, propped up on old pillows or curled on their sides. He moved quietly among them, offering a kind word or making them more comfortable. The others, the four that had not made it, were draped in clean sheets.

Anna returned later with some supplies She slung the bag off her shoulder as Rebecca led her to where the medical supplies were kept. The stimpaks and bandages were organized neatly and then the two women regrouped outside where they wouldn’t get in the way. The scavver rolled up her sleeves and looked distastefully down at the nearest corpse.

“Well, these aren’t going anywhere on their own. It’ll take a couple of us and a bit of time, but we might as well get started,” she said flatly.

With a nod, Rebecca gathered a few volunteers and soon they were cleaning the town of any signs of a fight. Those who were not injured immediately set to fixing the damaged fence and brainstorming ideas about how to make it stronger. Concrete. Beams of wood. A more sturdy build.

“I’d hate to cut off the land here, but we can’t let this happen again,” Barnum said as he surveyed the broken chain fencing. “Set a few gates, heavy and with a good latch. We can keep them unlocked except at night, or during a...time like this. And we’ll need an early warning system. Something to ring if a sentry spots trouble. So much work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who keeps reading this! Leave a comment or a kudos if you want, they make my day.  
> Have a great day!


	13. Chapter 13

Several days later the repairs were nearing completion and the construction of a new fence was in place. Anna sat beneath the tree in the center of Sanctuary’s cul-de-sac. Her hands ached from work, fresh blisters forming atop the calluses she already had. Sweat trickled down her neck and glued strands of pale blonde hair to her skin. Even though autumn was just around the corner, the heat of summer was not letting up.

She turned her attention down to the food in her hand and began to eat. It was simple fair, as she still insisted on taking meager rations and was too exhausted to travel home for lunch. Later she would make something better. Assuming, of course, she didn’t fall into bed as soon as she stepped in the door.

Building a settlement, even when the remains of several houses could act as shelter, was a lot of work. Anna thought that making the truck stop into a home had been a tough battle. From the lack of power and sanitized water, to the need for crops and a lockable door, it had taken her quite some time to get it into shape. But Sanctuary was a much larger place, and had attracted a lot of people needing a place to live.

And after the super mutants had wrecked the town, there was even more work to be do. The settlers had buried their dead in the new cemetery Rebecca had started. Barnum had given a eulogy at the funeral before helping to design some kind of wall for it as well.

The scavver finished her lunch and sat back, leaning against the tree and closing her eyes. The others wouldn’t want to start working quite yet and so she figured she had some time.

The day after the mutant battle, a trader had arrived in town bearing fresh supplies. She had called herself Trashcan Carla and Anna had sworn she had met her before somewhere. Like all traders, she had traveled across the Commonwealth in search of new materials and good deals. What was most interesting was her cargo.

A fresh, untouched, fusion core.

Barnum had thanked Carla and clapped her heartily on the back. His old contact had proved true, and the fusion core had been carefully stored with the suit of power armor. The other supplies, fresh gauze and stims, had been bought and packed with the rest. They would be needed to treat Sanctuary’s wounded.

So now it was up to Rebecca. It was her adventure, her missing child.

Anna pulled herself to her feet again and made her way to the vault dweller’s home. She knocked lightly before stepping inside, blinking and taking in the sight before her. Rebecca was seated at the counter, bowl of something steaming before her. Beside the bowl was a comic book, opened as the woman poured over it.

“Is that Grognak?” Anna asked.

A laugh was the response. Rebecca flipped the comic closed and the stool creaked as she turned towards the door. “Yes. Somehow it survived all this time. It’s funny.” She glanced back at the counter, a wistful nostalgia in her eyes. “I was reading it that day, you know. Codsworth here had just handed me a bowl of Sugar Bombs - I love you, Codsy, but you _know_ that’s not a healthy breakfast - and I sat down to see it on the counter. Warren must’ve left it there. He loved his comics and I can’t blame him. They are pretty cool, even if they aren’t exactly classic literature.”

“Sir always did leave them behind,” Codsworth added with a chuckle. “Though I must remind you, mum, that you often stole them off his bookshelf when you thought he wasn’t looking.”

“Well, I had a reputation. Tough lawyer. I couldn’t let it be known that I secretly adored reading about Grognak and the -” here she glanced down at the cover again “- and the Lair of the Devil Babies. I did though.” She glanced back at Anna with a shrug. “Between comics and those feel-good love stories, I never would have heard the end of it around the office.”

“Well, you and Nick can swap stories sometime. Oh, no. Don’t tell him I said that,” Anna said and clapped her hands over her mouth. She leaned in, whispering conspiratorially around her hand. “Whatever you do, do _not_ mention that I know all about his collection of trashy crime novels. He couldn’t bear the shame.”

Rebecca laughed at this and shook her head. “No, I think the secret’s safe with us. Though, I don’t see that as shameful. Read whatever you like. It’s not like it hurts anyone.”

“Nah.” Anna agreed with her. It didn’t matter what one read, really. As long as it wasn’t a manifesto on how to destroy mankind, she figured it was fine to read. She herself collected any readable book in her travels and kept them on her bookshelf back home. At least there they would be safe and read again someday.

Once she had found the remains of an old detective novel and given it to Nick. He had gone on and on about how predictable it was, and how undeveloped the characters (particularly the protagonist's damsel of a love interest, who he felt was not given enough credit), but she had seen right through him. He had loved it. Since then, she had saved any such novel for him, and he had accepted each one.

“So, I was thinking,” Rebecca continued as she stood up and cleared away her dish. “I have that second fusion core now. Nice of Carla to let us have it, by the way. B said something about a favor he cashed in. Now I can get to the Glowing Sea. And survive the rads.” She rubbed her arms as she said this, seeming disturbed by the idea. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

“Well, no one is more prepared than you, Ev. You’ll make it.”

“I sure hope so. I managed to haggle for some extra protection. More rad-x and what I was told was radaway, in case of exposure. I’m never going to be more prepared than now. So my plan is to leave soon. Tomorrow, or the next day if that’s not possible.”

Anna nodded in agreement. “Well, just let Nick know so he can get ready. He’s already agreed to go with you ‘cause I can’t. If we had another suit, I’d go too. While you two are gone, I’ll stay around here and help out. We still have to get a more stable power source in place. The fuel I brought over won’t last much longer.”

She rambled on about the work around town in an effort to hide her worry. She trusted both of them, and the suit as long as it remained undamaged, but she did not trust the Glowing Sea. The sheer amount of radiation, rads that had never dissipated due to both the nature of the bomb blast and the location’s geography, would kill in seconds. And the wildlife…

Creatures got more dangerous the further south one traveled. It was common knowledge to stay away from anywhere within several miles of the Glowing Sea. And in the sea itself? No one knew. Maybe nothing could survive such intense radiation, or maybe the creatures that lived inside its glow were even more deadly than the ones outside. Anna couldn’t help but worry about what her friends would encounter.

“Well, hopefully we won’t be gone long. Get in, find Virgil, and get out of there.” Rebecca sat again and leaned her head against one hand. “That’s the idea, anyway.”

 

“There is a new report, sir.”

Father turned towards the voice, folding his hands behind his back. The speaker was one of the younger scientists. The logo on their lab coat meant that they were from the Synth Retention Bureau. They stopped a few feet from him and held out the report, their painted nails stark against the pristine paper. He accepted it and stepped onto the lift, hands settling behind him once more.

He had been waiting for this. When he reached the next level, he stepped out of the crystalline elevator and headed straight for his office. It would not due to delay.

The report was from one of their surface informants: a ragged, cigarette-loving woman who called herself Trashcan Carla. Her name was...unpleasant, but her results were anything but. She had not only seen, but spoken to, the woman he was interested in tracking. She had heard the woman’s plans.

Father set the report on his desk and smiled. That woman was his mother. Rebecca Evelyn. He had ordered her release from cryostasis only weeks before and so far intelligence on her was limited. Watchers, synthetic birds that the Bureau used as spies, had caught glimpses of her travels, but nothing as concrete as this. Her appearance in Diamond City, and her involvement with some of the Institute’s most watched over citizens, had been damning. But this. This was so much better.

His mother was headed into the Glowing Sea. Though Trashcan Carla had not been able to ascertain the reasoning behind this concerning choice, Father could guess. She sought Dr. Brian Virgil. It seemed that she was going to see what he knew.

The rogue bioscientist had been hiding in the Glowing Sea for too long, thinking he was out of the Institute’s reach. It had been a good plan, Father had to admit, but a plan that would inevitably end in failure. The Institute would find a way into the Glowing Sea. They had already outfitted Kellogg with the tools to make the trip. They could certainly organize another such mission.

Kellogg had since been found dead in the ruins of Fort Hagen. Presumably, Rebecca had killed him. It was a loss, to be sure, but the Institute would make do.

Father considered ordering a team of synths to track her. If they could remain out of her sight, and survive the dangers the zone undoubtedly presented, then they could eliminate the rogue variable Virgil presented. But if they didn’t, then it was a waste of resources the Institute couldn’t afford.

There didn’t seem to be a better time, however.

Father set the thought aside for later review. According to the report, there was time. It would take considerable time to reach the Glowing Sea on foot, and the synths could be relayed in an instant. He resolved to discuss it with Justin Ayo, head of the entire Bureau. He knew the coursers and their current missions best.

An aching pain soon rooted itself behind his eye. Grimacing, Father lowered his head and shielded his eyes from the lights above. Stress marked itself in the lines of his face and the tautness of his shoulders. As the director of the Institute, everything went through and was approved by him. The responsibilities rested on him. Responsibilities for all lives and major decisions. Even if one of the divisions heads - Ayo of the Bureau, Holdren of Bioscience, and others still - made a choice, it always came back to him.

And what of his mother? She was headed straight into the most dangerous location in the known area. She had nothing more than a damaged, rusted and out-of-order suit of Power Armor to protect her. It concerned him that she would take those steps. The scientific data she provided was too valuable to lose. If she didn’t survive, he would have to change the plans he had for the future. And she was his mother. He supposed he was meant to feel some sort of worry over her fate.

There was nothing to be done. At this point, Father could only watch. Sending in a courser to retrieve her would be pointless. It would draw too much attention, and she would make her way to the Institute on her own. She sought her missing child, and apparently nothing could dissuade her. Father knew in that moment that she would survive. All he had to do was wait.

 

Smoke. Heavy, oily clouds of black rose skyward, blocking out the stars. Orange fire flickered below, hot and angry. The windows of the house were lit from within, gaping maws of hell itself. The wind carried brilliant embers away from these flames, throwing them about like a petulant toddler. They landed and set another house afire. They devoured.

Anna couldn’t scream. She stood numb, horrified eyes taking in the sight before her. Ash streaked her hair and skin. Caught in her chest.

The roar of the fire could not block the screams. They were high, piercing sounds of agony. People, bloody and burned, ran past her and she tasted their sweat, their fear. They were prey, marked for death. Behind them came the predator.

She was rooted to the spot, unable to get her shaking legs to move. Heart slamming against her ribcage, she crouched and hid her face. The mutants stomped past her. The ground shook like thunder. A trickle of pain, sickening and familiar, sliced down her spine.

When they were gone, she looked up again. She stared out between shaking fingers and saw the barren, desolate landscape. The houses had been replaced with burnt rock and dead, twisted trees. The fire had disappeared and left behind a greenish, rolling haze. The air smelled like metal.

A wind howled above and Anna looked up to see rad-soaked storm clouds. Lightning flashed, causing her to flinch and look away. Down on the ground, she could see two figures. One stood in a suit of power armor. The other, a long coat.

She tried to move towards them. They had to leave. Her feet were still locked in place and she seethed, panic bubbling in her chest. This land - the Glowing Sea - would kill them. She had to get to them; to save them.

Her voice was a hoarse cry, ripped away by the wind. Rain pelted down, soaking through her clothes and mixing with the ash on her skin. She screamed again but the figures did not hear her. They walked away, steps slow and heavy across the ground.

Tendrils of mist clung to them and she watched in horror as they collapsed into its embrace. The ground rolled, mud and molten stone enveloping their bodies. They were gone.

A scream tore from her lips and the sight blurred. Grief left her gasping and yet she wiped the tears from her eyes and kept watching. Hoping. They had to come back - they must - they couldn’t just die -

Anna did not notice the lightning as it bolted straight downward. It seared her, burning her inside and out. White filled her vision, a sterile, lifeless white. Hot agony filled every cell of her body. It paralyzed her, locked every muscle and tendon.

A sharp feeling dug into her skull. Like a knife, it drove in deep, slicing through her very thoughts. She didn’t know where she was. She wasn’t aware of anything but the pain. It was unending, this painful rooting of her very mind. She wanted to pull away, to make it stop, but the paralysis was complete. There was no escape.

Anna’s eyes flashed open and she heaved, curling in on herself. A tingling sensation, remnants of the dream, skittered across her skin. She stared at the wall across from her, tracing the cracks and counting the erratic beats of her heart. Onetwothree. One t-two three.

She was awake. She was safe. Around her was the familiar sounds of the truck stop and she acknowledged each one. The gentle breeze across the tile. The crickets. And even Dogmeat’s huffing snore beside the bed.

Throwing back the blankets, Anna stood. Sweat ran down her back and she grimaced. She stepped softly over Dogmeat, unwilling to disturb his peaceful slumber, and left the room. She peered outside to gauge the time. Too early to rise for the day. Sighing, she leaned against the doorframe.

Weakness pulled at her limbs, making her feel slow and shaky. She pressed her forehead into the doorframe, squeezing shut her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. Maybe, she thought deliriously, she could gather strength from the concrete itself.

Moments passed and her heartbeat slowed. The nightmare faded, gradually losing color as its hold on her lessened. She inhaled, welcoming the smell of stone and dried grass, and stepped outside.

The stars shone in the clear sky, like dots of paint on a inky canvas. A measure of peace settled over Anna and she embraced it, knowing to take what she could get.

She continued her walk. The exercise would help clear her head too. Over the years she’d learned how to deal with her nightmares and sleepless nights. A walk, an old book, just sitting outside - they were all ways she coped. Sometimes she even got on the floor (or couch) with Dogmeat and let his calm demeanor settle her nerves.

As she rounded the corner, she smelled smoke. At first, she panicked. But after a moment she recognized the smell and relaxed.

Nick leaned against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was at ease, hands in his pockets as he watched the stars with a look of contentment.

Anna didn’t want to bother him. She went to leave but stopped when he looked over at her. “Oh,” she said lamely. “Nick. Hey.”

“You’re awake,” he said. There was concern written in the lines of his face. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Anna smiled but it was a rueful one. “Seems not. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” He pulled the cigarette from his lips. Stepping away from the wall, he approached her. “I wasn’t busy. You want to talk about it?”

It would be nice to get it off her chest. Nick was a good listener, and he never told her how to feel or tried to fix what was wrong. He let her feel how she felt and then helped her through whatever dark mood had taken over. If that meant letting her ramble on, he would sit quietly and let her talk. If that meant holding her tight as she cried, well, he was more than happy to do that too.

It wouldn’t be the first time she had gone to him when troubled.

Still she was shy. That nightmare...the mud had swallowed him. He had died. She wasn’t keen on sharing that dark detail with him, no matter how good of a listener he was. But it wasn’t a good idea to just sit and stew on it.

“I - I guess. Yeah. That might be best.” Anna gave in. She followed him over to the wall and sat down beside him. The brick was rough against her skin and she realized that she was wearing only an old tank top and a pair of faded sweatpants. Typical wasteland pajamas, of course, but not really suited for the outdoors.

As if he had noticed this as well, Nick shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her. He waved a hand at her stubborn protest, insisting (with equal stubbornness) that she take it.

“Well.” Anna wasn’t sure where to start. She tucked herself into the trenchcoat, pulling her legs beneath her and hiding her hands into the sleeves. It smelled like him - metal and cigarettes, with a hint of cologne. “Pretty typical nightmare, at least to start with. Lotsa fire and...and gore.”

That she considered it just a typical nightmare was problematic, but Anna pushed the thought away. Nothing about that was new. “It was like before, too,” she continued. “I mean, you know this. It brings back all those...foggy memories. Mutants attacking in the middle of the night and waking all of us up. The screams. Those screams…”

She could hear it all again. The crash as the mutants broke into houses. The sickening, squelching rip of torn flesh. The fire growling, roaring, as it devoured everything in its path.

Much of the rest was lost to her. She only had a brief glimpse of herself afterward, when she had managed to escape the mutants. She had been huddled in some kind of shack, fingers cold as they slipped in the blood that ran down her back. The lone stimpak she had managed to find hadn’t been enough. The blood had just kept coming. A chill had settled over her like winter’s frost and she couldn’t get warm.

After that, she wasn’t sure. Somehow, she had managed to make it to Diamond City. She had never found out how. All she knew was that she had woken up in the clinic, bandaged and delirious. Perhaps a caravan had found her. Perhaps she hadn’t been as hurt as those memories had led her to believe. Whatever the case, at least she had found safety.

“All I could picture the other night was that happening again. Maybe not to me, but to someone else. I saw the town burned to the ground like mine. I didn’t want that to happen. I couldn’t prevent the mutants from attacking and that hurts just as much. Dammit I couldn’t protect them.” Anna thought of the settlers that had died and felt her anger rising again. How dare those creatures attack a group of innocents? It made her sick.

But the helplessness overrode her anger.

“I feel like I should be stronger than this,” she said sadly.

“You are strong, Anna.” Nick caught her gaze. “You keep gettin’ up each day. It takes guts to keep going when things get this tough. Listen, it’s alright to be afraid. And…you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to hurt and to break down sometimes.”

The tears burned like fire as they ran down her face. She ducked her head, intending to hide them, but wasn’t quick enough. With a sound of soft commiseration, Nick wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was a comforting weight and she leaned against him.

She appreciated his unwavering support. So many times she had avoided what made her upset, or just shoved it down, down, where it couldn’t hurt her. Time and time again she had learned that it didn’t work and only made her feel worse. Eventually, she always broke down when the stress caught up with her. Usually she was alone and worked through it herself. And while she was capable of doing so, she much preferred the times she had him to lean on.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said again. She pulled away and scrubbed her hands down her face. “I’m being a pain. Bringing all this up again. Like usual, I just kept quiet and let it all fester.”

“Sometimes we don’t want to face what hurts us,” Nick replied quietly. He left his hand on her back and she was grateful. “Even I know that. Healing isn’t a simple process, and it never goes as planned. I have bad days, too. Sometimes I don’t know who or what I am. It’s better than before, sure, but some days I still feel just as confused as when I woke up all those years ago. Give yourself time.”

Anna glanced away. He was right. It took time to heal wounds, whether they were physical or emotional. She knew this, of course, but she had a difficult time wrapping her head around it. She had been doing so well lately. She had been happy and she had begun to feel so safe. Her nightmares had faded and grown less frequent. One day, one damn day, was all it took to undo all her work. All that progress seemed wasted.

“It just makes me feel so stupid,” she said to herself. Nick looked at her with grave concern, but waited for her to continue speaking. “It’s not like what happened the other day wasn’t traumatic. Everyone’s probably having trouble. But here I have to go and shatter to pieces again.”

Raids weren’t pleasant. Whether it was wolves, other people, or super mutants, they were horrible events and left survivors rattled. The settlers at Sanctuary were probably shaken by it still, but they carried on like before. So why couldn’t she?

It wasn’t like she blamed anyone. Far from it, actually. She admired their ability to keep going, and sympathized with their fear and grief. They were different people and had their own demons and methods of coping. But still...she just felt so tired. Weak. Like she was drowning or she had been caught by some evil tide she had thought outrun.

“Doll.” Nick’s voice was low. It was warm, a soothing sound that wrapped around her like a heavy quilt. His fingers twined with hers and she wondered if he could feel the erratic beat of her heart against his skin.

“I know, Nick. I know.” She looked down at their clasped hand and remembered the rest of her dream. “After...in my dream, after the raid I was standing in, well, I think it was the Glowing Sea. You were out there, too. You and Rebecca. I couldn’t get you to leave. I was so worried. You both died and I couldn’t stop it.” The thought of Nick - or Rebecca, even - dying made a cold, heavy stone settle in her chest. “I’ve been so worried about it lately. I don’t think that helped. Listen, I don’t want to get in the way of her trip. I won’t stop either of you from going. So I’ve been acting like everything was fine...but I’m really not.”

Anna reminded herself to have hope. Just because no one had ever gone into the Glowing Sea didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. If anyone could make it work, it was Rebecca. And Nick was no fool; he would manage.

Not that it made her feel any better.

“I think a lot of people around here do that,” Nick spoke up, interrupting her thoughts. There was a crooked smile on his face. “We’re all used to puttin’ on a pretty face. We’ll come back just fine. You’ll look up in a few days and see us walkin’ back over those hills. Count on it.”

With an amused snort, Anna said, “Sure thing, detective. Bring me back a souvenir, will you?”

“I’ll find ya the best one.”

The woman brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. She chose not to mention the last part of her dream. That paralysis was too otherworldly to process. The digging pain in her skull, the confusion, it was just too much. She didn’t want to think about it, much less discuss it.

“Thanks, Nick. For hearing me out.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of them sat peacefully for a long while. They watched the stars, silently enjoying each other’s company. Anna felt better. Lighter, maybe. She scooted closer and leaned against him. With an affectionate smile, he curled an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Seems I should get back to sleep,” Anna muttered after a while. A yawn nearly smothered her words. The thought of going back to bed filled her with dread. She sighed before standing and handing Nick back his coat. She supposed that she could make herself some coffee and head into town, but knew better. It wouldn’t be wise.

“Sounds good. I could use the rest, myself.” Nick tossed aside the spent cigarette and snuffed it beneath one foot.

“You don’t sleep.”

"Ah!” Nick said with a laugh. “Now what’s this? _You’re_ telling _me_ that I don’t sleep?” There was no irritation in his voice. His eyes were alit with laughter as he held out his hand to her. “C’mon, I’ll join ya. If you’ll have me.”

He knew her well. “Yeah,” Anna said with a smile, this one radiant and true. She took his hand and led the way inside. They were both unsurprised to note that Dogmeat was still asleep.

They stepped around him and tucked in beneath the blankets. It was a cozy fit but neither had any complaints. Anna felt the rest of her worries draining away as her eyes drifted closed. Nick’s steady presence, his arms around her, helped to keep the nightmares away. She knew that her fears would come back in the morning, but at least for now she could breathe easy.

 

Rebecca pulled herself up into the power armor, carefully sliding her arms and legs into place. She leaned forward and felt the suit shut behind her, the seal hissing as it engaged. Her vision blurred for a moment until the screen cleared, revealing a holographic field that held all of her critical levels. One was rads, much like what her Pip-Boy showed, one was the general state of her health (which the suit reported to be fine), and then there were others that she didn’t quite understand. Diagnostics of the suit itself, she assumed.

A faint orange color settled over everything. She turned about, feeling the legs of the suit shift heavily, and looked at those standing around her.

“Okay. I think I got this. I can walk in it, anyway.” She demonstrated this as she circled the others. Damn, but power armor was noisy. Good thing she had no intention of sneaking around anywhere. Enemies would have no trouble hearing her. “Well, I’ll get plenty of practice heading down south. You said this would take at least a day, right?”

Anna nodded. “You’ll want to find a place far enough away to sleep when it gets late. Don’t need you heading into the Glowing Sea with no rest.” She held out a bag full of supplies. “Take this and tuck it inside your armor somewhere. Food, some spare clothes for you both, and some soap. When you get out of there, dispose of what you are wearing and wash up. You can’t take any chances with exposure.”

Rebecca did so, stepping out of the armor again and finding a place to tuck the pack. It nestled tightly against her side. Stepping back into the frame, she realized just how hot it was. She would need to stop for water often, but it was small price to pay for the protection the suit offered.

“Nick, the same goes for you,” Anna said to the detective standing next to her.

He nodded and glanced down to chuckle at this own clothes. Unwilling to lose his trenchcoat and hat, he had left them behind at the truck stop and instead garbed himself in what looked like farmhand attire. His revolver was tucked into a holster attached to his belt, and a modified rifle was hooked in place on his back.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Rads aren’t too much of a problem when you’re built like this.” Nick glanced up at Rebecca and took in the sight of the rusted suit of armor. “I can hardly tell us apart. You just stay in that, and remember to take your medicine.” He held out a bottle of something and shook it. The label, taped around the plastic, said rad-x.

Tucking it into one of the many pockets of his clothing, he hooked a thumb towards the newly-reinforced gate. “You ready to get going?”

Rebecca took stock of her belongings again. Food and clothing in the bag, shielded from exposure against her side, both rifles hooked to two different holsters within easy reach, and as much ammunition as she could carry. Nick carried rad-x and radaway, as well as gauze and stimpaks.

“Yes. Let’s get going.”

Anna reached out and patted a steel panel on the power armor. There was a grave concern in her dark eyes, but she refrained from mentioning it. They all knew. “You take care, alright? I can’t look after Codsworth all by myself.” She smiled at the resulting laugh before turning to Nick. “And you. Keep her out of trouble. With all that horsepower, she might want to take on a behemoth.”

“A what - “

“Not on my watch she won’t.”

“Good,” Anna said and kissed him. “With the two of you going together, I don’t have to worry. Too much. Now go on, get out of here.”

Rebecca stifled a chuckle at Nick’s sheepish smile. She was not surprised; from the way the two of them behaved, she had never doubted their affections.

Rebecca led the way out of town, grimacing as the power armor stomped along the road. Outside they headed south towards the Glowing Sea. From here it would be a long trip, but she was ready. There was energy in her veins that she knew would carry her all those miles. It would carry her, hopefully, straight to the Institute.


	14. Chapter 14

The road was desolate and broken. High above the remains of an overpass disappeared into the gloom. Time had ravaged the structure like it had all the others, but the damage it had meant something much darker. Cracks covered the oddly discolored surface like giant bolts of lightning. Each shot out from a crumbling, as if rotted, gap in the concrete.

There was no sound except for a lonely wind that smelled like metal. Though she could not feel it through her suit of power armor, Rebecca watched as it danced across the ground in swirls of debris. It howled, too; a beast angry and sick.

“Look at the trees,” Rebecca said as she looked around. Every tree, except for the ones half-buried in the radioactive mud, was leaning in the same direction. She felt a cold shiver at the sheer eeriness of the sight.  “They all lean that way, towards Boston.”

Nick Valentine followed her gaze. “I’m surprised they stand at all. The blast must’ve destroyed everything.”

“Probably has, at least closer to the site. This looks like the edge of the sea itself.” The woman felt dread settling in her stomach and pushed it aside. She gazed ahead, eyes scanning the sickening sight before her. “You have any idea where we’ll find this scientist?”

“Somewhere well hidden. And safe from the rads. So I’m guessing we should be on the lookout for some cave or a bunker.” The detective’s hands disappeared into his pockets as he stared ahead. Rebecca could tell that he was as apprehensive as she was. “Geiger counter’s doin’ gymnastics over here. You feelin’ any of the rads yet?”

Rebecca turned her attention inward, eyes finding the needle on the suit’s holographic screen. “No. It’s registering here on the screen, but the suit’s sealed so I’m fine. Honestly, I don’t want to think about the number right now. Let alone how much higher it’ll get.”

Nick chuckled at her dry tone. “That armor is among the few tricks to surviving radiation. As long as it stays intact. And with the rad-x you took a bit ago, you should be fine.”

“Should be.”

“Well,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. “No one has ever gone into the sea that I know of. And I’ve been around a while. That said, you’re as protected as the Commonwealth gets. Let’s just avoid any...ah, confrontations with the locals. That wouldn’t be good.”

With an undignified snort, Rebecca stepped forward. Locals meant the creatures that lived here, and she was even less excited about facing them than she was the rads. “With any luck, Dr. Virgil is nearby and we find him before we disturb the neighborhood.”

 

Within minutes the sky had darkened. Clouds writhed above, thick and burning with radiation. Thunder growled, chasing the lightning that reached down towards the broken ground. A thick, greenish haze had settled over everything, making it hard to see even a few feet ahead. Rain, saturated with radiation, dribbled out of the sky at unpredictable intervals.

Rebecca came to a halt, planting her feet solidly placed on a patch of blackened rock. She looked around her as she tried to get her bearings. Had she been walking in a straight line? She thought so, but between the fallen trees and broken slabs of highway, she had been forced to climb over or around. She referred to her Pip-Boy and realized that they had not traveled far.

“We aren’t going to see much in this,” Rebecca said as she turned to her traveling companion. Nick climbed up beside her and huffed his agreement. “So I’ll just have to use this map more closely. I’ll mark where we’ve been.”

Though the suit left much to be desired when it came to fine, delicate movements, she was able to work her Pip-Boy with a little adaptation. She marked the edge and hoped that would help keep her grounded. And, if all else failed, she could follow it to find the way out.

Rebecca lifted her head and gazed down the slope. Through the haze she could see puddles of orange material (liquid? magma?) gathered on what looked to be dried plains. Ghostly trails of radiation rose from these puddles and she eyed them with horror. Beyond them were more hills, the shapes dark and intimidating on the horizon.

“Why don’t we head that direction? Those hills would be perfect locations for some kind of cave.” At Nick’s nod, the woman carefully made her way down the slope. Her heavy feet sank into the mud, but instead of squelching around her boots, the mud broke apart like glass. Each step earned her a loud, jagged sound as the ground shattered beneath her. Doggedly, she continued until she stood in the valley.

Nick skidded to a stop beside her. His eyes were wide as he surveyed the area. “This place is straight outta someone’s nightmares. Though I don’t think that whoever named it understood the word sea.”

Despite the danger they stood in, Rebecca laughed. “No, I guess not. There isn’t exactly any water here. Unless you count that stuff there.” She gestured to the orange pools of viscous material. “With the way it looks, it might as well have a sign that says Keep Away.”

“And keep away we will. C’mon, let’s get moving. I don’t want to find out what happens to prototypes if you leave them cookin’ out here too long.”

The duo kept forging ahead. Several times they ducked to avoid detection by ferals or the large buzzing insects Nick called stingwings. Thankfully, the haze blurred the vision of the creatures as much as it did theirs. They were able to avoid confrontation with most, and the others were put down with little hesitation.

Nick was silent as they traveled, face unreadable as he kept watch on their surroundings. He mentioned once, with dry humor, how thankful he was that the Institute had deigned to program him with such perceptive traits. He utilized every protocol he had in order to spot danger.

Rebecca did the same. She read every meter and gauge on the screen before her, noting when the radiation spiked and keeping an eye on her fusion core. Said fusion core was her second one, and though it was still nearly full, she worried about running out of power. If she did and was forced to exit the suit, she would die. No amount of rad-x would save her from the level of radiation the Glowing Sea emitted.

 

“Is that a plane?”

“Seems to be. Must’ve lost control. Whether that was before or after the detonations remains to be seen,” Nick said as he peered at the metallic ruin. “There should be a recorder, up in the cabin. That might be our answer.”

Rebecca walked closer, craning her neck as she took in the sight. The airplane, crashed and in several pieces, loomed above her. The steel was beginning to corrode but the supports appeared to be intact. She ducked her head and stepped inside.

The floor was littered with upended seats and lost cases of luggage. The metal groaned underfoot as she walked along the aisle. “All these people,” she said softly, looking upon the remains of the passengers. Skeletons, darkened with radiation, crowded the seats in a stark reminder of the war. They had never reached their destination; instead, they were killed like so many others when the bombs fell. “So many innocent lives.”

Nick moved past her and navigated up the crooked staircase that led to the pilot’s cabin. He returned with a small object and, twisting it apart, revealed a holotape. 

“What are the odds?” Rebecca asked.. If it did hold the last recording, and assuming it still played after so much time, did she want to hear it?

“I dunno,” he replied and held it out. “Take it. Might be the last memory of these people. Whether or not you listen to it...I’ll leave that to you.”

The woman nodded and stored the holotape in one of the many compartments of her power armor. Perhaps later she would listen to the words and pay the respects this flight never received. She didn’t have time to sit and grieve in the Glowing Sea. 

The duo stepped out from the plane’s metal skeleton and moved on. Further and further south they traveled. Up and down steep, rocky slopes. Around collapsed buildings and ghostly, unrecognizable structures that loomed out of the mist. They stumbled across several caves carved into the rock, but were unable to find Brian Virgil. Rebecca thought it fitting, as none of the caves were secure or safe from the rads. 

As they searched she struggled to fight of her growing hysteria. It was surreal, this Glowing Sea. It was a ghostly, wholly unwelcome hell that ate at her and her courage. Though her suit remained sealed, and therefore the rads could not touch her, she felt as if the place was draining her off all her strength. The sheer nature of it all - the encompassing darkness that shrouded their steps, the sickly mist that clung to her visor, and the death that hung in the air - made her feel sick.

She wanted to sit down and rest, but there was nowhere safe. At all times they had to keep alert for hostile creatures and and the even-more-dangerous terrain. One lucky strike from a feral could open her to the radiation. One false step and she would find herself drowning in a pit of molten rock.

Once they stumbled upon a particularly gruesome sight. Both recoiled as they spotted over a dozen skeletons spilling out from a wrecked, half-buried city bus. Skulls stared up at them while disjointed knees and lonely hands poked out of the glassy mud. It seemed that, over time, erosion and the unpredictable weather patterns had forced the bodies to sludge downhill. 

Rebecca heaved as she fought the bile in her throat. Beside her, Nick looked just as ill.

All they could do was keep searching. 

 

Rebecca lost track of how long they had been inside the Glowing Sea. There was no sunlight and no way to tell the time of day. She referred to her Pip-Boy and frowned at the screen. According to the device, not only had a few hours passed, but they were rapidly approaching the corner of the known map.

She lowered her arm slowly and looked ahead, eyes tracing the mountain rising before her. She glanced over to her companion. “You think Virgil got this far?”

N ick shrugged. “Could be. If he’s from the Institute, then he might have had some kind of technology to do so. At this point, we might as well check.” The synth glanced back down the slope and frowned. “Let’s get a move on.”

Rebecca heartily agreed. She turned back around and forged ahead, finding feet- and hand-holds in the crumbling mud. A boom of thunder shook the mountain and she slid backward a few feet, causing Nick to curse and scramble out of her way. Turning to make sure he was alright, she caught sight of something lumbering in the mist.

“You gonna keep staring down here or -” Nick caught on to her sudden mood and froze, one hand creeping to the rifle on his back. “What do you see?”

“I don’t know. Something over there, back a ways. Something big.”

“Shit. Keep moving and be quick about it. We’re awful vulnerable here.”

The woman did as he suggested and pushed on. At the top of the slope she turned back and readied her rifle, peering into the gloom as the detective hurried to join her. The shadow was still there, a great humanoid shape dragging itself along the plains below.

“What the hell is that?” she asked and tucked herself against the nearest boulder.

Nick was silent as he shouldered the rifle and peered through the scope. “Damn this mist. I can hardly see a thing. Oh. That isn’t good. Let’s just be thankful that he hasn’t seen us. Yet.” He stepped back and looked over at her again. “I said I’d keep you away from behemoths and I intend to keep that promise. We don’t need to tangle with him.”

Rebecca looked again and felt a cold dread settle into her stomach. So far they had been fortunate enough not to come across anything they couldn’t handle. Stingwings, ferals, and a few radscorpions. But nothing like what she saw below.

They moved away from the edge and found themselves looking down at a vast crater. Green water covered the floor and strange motes of light rose into the murky sky above. A tinny beeping caught her attention and she looked to the holographic screen of her power armor. The Geiger counter was blazing red, the needle shaking erratically at the end. She had grown accustomed to the counter’s incessant beeping, but this alert was a new level of danger.

“Would you look at that.” Nick knelt and looked down into the yawning crater. “This must’ve been where it hit. Look at the edges, all around. No small wonder why our counter’s are actin’ like this. And those buildings…”

“They weren’t here before the war, if that’s what you mean. Someone put them there.”

“Yeah. And in my experience, the only people I know that would be dumb enough to settle here are the Children of Atom.” He adjusted his grip on the rifle and nodded towards the buildings. “They might not take kindly to us being here, dressed as we are. Well, dressed as you are. I suspect they’ll have some notions about me as well. But they might know where our scientist is.”

 

If Rebecca’s discomfort had a counter like the radiation did, it would have broken the moment she entered the Children’s campsite. People lived like this, she realized with growing horror. They worshiped the rads that gave them cancers and made their hair fall out. The very same silent force that killed them mercilessly was the one they prayed to. She tried to not judge and knew that it was their choice. If they wanted to live in such conditions, it was their decision. She may not agree, and she might privately worry about the health and sanity of all involved, but she could keep her mouth shut.

They were quickly cornered by several robe-wearing worshippers. They eyed her suit and Nick’s metal frame with obvious distaste. They carried pistols with alien modifications and she could tell that they knew exactly how to use them. Rebecca put her rifle away and her hands up, snapping to Nick that he should do the same. Only when both of them stood still with their weapons holstered, showing that they were there in peace, did the worshippers lower their own. 

The Children asked them who they were and what their business was.

“My name’s Rebecca. I come from a settlement far to the north and am seeking a man named Virgil. I need to speak with him. Do any of you know where I can find him?”

The three shared a look of confusion. One stepped forward and looked her up and down. “We will take you to Mother Isolde, our leader. She is our holy connection to Atom and translates His wishes so that we may understand them. If she decides to help you, she will. Otherwise, you are not welcome here.”

She turned and led the way through the campsite, hands folded behind her back. The others surrounded the newcomers in an obvious warning. Rebecca fought her rising panic as she watched others appear from the makeshift shelters. She and Nick were watched like they were enemies and she was afraid of what might happen to them. These people might follow a path she would not choose, but they looked like a strong bunch that would give no second chances.

At the top of a set of rusted metal stairs stood a short, wiry woman. She was eerily still, her thin grey hair whipping around her eyes. Her hands were folded before her and a few sores could be visible on her skin. Her face was pockmarked and several more sores trailed down her neck. She looked like a wraith; an angry spirit who watched the world turn with scorn.

“I am Mother Isolde. You seek Virgil.” She stated and her voice carried on the rain-soaked wind. “He has come to us before, seeking to trade for supplies. He has grown accustomed to Atom’s touch. You have not. Cower in your protective metal suit all you want, heathen. Think yourself tall. But when you grow weak and taste that same metal on your tongue, you will know him. And,” she added and turned her attention to Nick. “Robotic joints and circuits may be resistant, but none can evade Him forever.”

Rebecca frowned at the woman’s words but kept her thoughts to herself. Antagonizing this woman further would do them no good. A crowd had gathered and she did not want to end up a public example of Atom’s judgement.

" Please,” Rebecca said. “Can you tell me how to find Virgil?”

“Why? What do you want with him?”

“He has information that I need. My...baby was stolen and I’m trying to find him.” Rebecca was honestly getting tired of the explanation. She wondered if this woman even cared. It wasn’t her business that Shaun had been taken inside the Institute. 

The woman stared at her for several moments. Thunder roared overhead and the rain started coming down harder. Nick muttered something about rust and shifted uneasily, glancing around at the worshippers gathered around them.

“I see. Perhaps Atom has led you here, child. Someday you will accept his gifts and create a thousand new worlds in his light.” The woman gestured towards the mountains beyond the campsite. She didn’t seem concerned about the missing child, but Rebecca took what she could get. “Virgil lives beyond this sacred site. He has made it clear that he wishes to be alone. You could travel to his home, if you wish. But do be careful. Atom’s creatures roam freely nearby.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said and backed up. Isolde waved a hand to dismiss the others. They reluctantly went back to their business, many of them sneaking curious glances at the odd newcomers. Rebecca led the way back out of the campsite and could only breathe again when they had climbed out of the crater. 

“That went well, I think. Asides from us being eyed like the heathen oddities we are.”

“Well, be thankful that we made it out when we did. Any other time I have come across any of their following, they shot first and then forgot to ask questions later.” Nick shook himself and scowled at the rain. It was letting up but they could both tell that it would be back. “Let’s just get going. I’m gonna need to drain out the ol’ circuits here soon.”

 

The trail led up the mountain. The end was lost in the darkening haze. Night was fast approaching, according to her Pip-Boy, but it was impossible to see for herself. All Rebecca knew was that it was getting even harder to see in front of her.

“This must be it,” she said with a grimace. She was exhausted.

The duo made their way up the trail, weaving between boulders and holding their guns at the ready. The leader of the Children had warned them of dangers beyond the crater and, after seeing the behemoth drawing so close, they were apt to believe her.

As they neared the peak, the mist cleared and Rebecca reeled back at what she saw. She crouched instinctively but avoiding detection was a lost cause. A deathclaw, one horn broken and several ribs showing through the creature’s scaled hide, roared a challenge. A scream bubbled up from her throat as she moved backward, narrowly avoiding a slash from arm-length claws.

Beside her, Nick swore and took aim as the creature advanced. There was no strategy to killing at deathclaw. There were few weak spots on its body and in such close, quick combat it was pointless to try to hit them. Instead, only luck and a great many bullets could take one down.

Rebecca watched as the bullets buried themselves in the deathclaw’s shoulder. A few got lodged between thick scales, but the others bit into muscle. Anna had spared no caps or time on the weapons she had given them. They were guns meant to take down big game.

The creature hissed and swung again. Nick leapt backward and scrambled up on the nearest boulder in the hopes of avoiding further attacks. This proved useless, as though it slowed it down, the height was no obstacle for the frenzied beast.

Shaking away her fear, Rebecca stood and took a stance, firing as many shots as she could before the deathclaw turned around again. 

It moved so much quicker than any feral. It caught her as she tried to escape and sent her flying with one powerful swipe. She slammed into the nearest rockwall and struggled to catch her breath as it advanced again. Head spinning, she heaved her rifle up and fired again, catching it in the chest.

The deathclaw roared and stood high on its hind legs, revealing blackened scales. It twisted and lashed out, tail whipping through the air. Rebecca cried out as she went sprawling, armor buzzing and beeping in her ears.

More bullets rained down as Nick fired, snapping a new clip in when the first ran out. He taunted the deathclaw, voice harsh and mocking, in an effort to pull it away from her. When it finally turned, hissing and spitting a challenge, he drew it farther away.

Rebecca tried to roll over to her back but the suit was heavy and slow. Messages flared before her eyes, red letters flashing warning signs. Her eyes sought the geiger counter and was horrified to note that the sealant was damaged in several spots and she was rapidly taking on rads. She had to get out of the radiation. She needed that medicine Nick had.

But first she had to get up.

She heard gunshots and heavy, rapid footsteps in the distance. Nick must have drawn the deathclaw far enough away from her that it lost interest - at least temporarily. She worried about him but pushed it away to focus on picking herself up. He was a lot more experienced than her.

The suit was reluctant to respond to her commands, but eventually she was able to sit up and, using the nearest rock for stability, pull herself to a stand. Her panting breath condensed before her, blurring the holographic screen in front of her eyes. 

A deeper, much louder, roar broke her concentration. It shook the ground and stones and loose slabs of rock fell from mountain above her. She ducked her head as they came crashing down. They landed around her, some striking the back of the armor and she winced at the damage. When they settled, she turned to scan the gloomy slope. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, a drumbeat louder than thunder. Something shadowy moved at a distance, the shape morphing into a recognizable sight. 

Rebecca was too afraid to scream. She had hoped that the behemoth had stayed down on the plains or had wandered off in another direction. Instead, it seemed that the giant brute had decided to follow them here.

She hurriedly scooped up her Institute rifle and made her way back to the top of the slope. No, she thought to herself. There was no way she could fight that creature off, power armor or no. The only chance to survive was to get away from it. At the top, she could hear the other fight drawing near. Nick emerged from the sickly gloom, looking equal parts haggard and afraid. He saw her and raced to her side, eyes scanning the cliffside for someplace to hide.

“There!” he shouted over the approaching footsteps. One arm gestured to a darker spot on the blackened rock - a gaping maw of some sort. “Inside, now!”

Both creatures drew near, as if pinching them tight in a vise. Nick shoved Rebecca towards the cave entrance. She stumbled, watching the alerts playing before her eyes. The rads continued to seep inside the suit and there was little she could do about it. 

Was she already feeling weaker?

They finally ducked inside and hurried down the narrow corridor. Coming to a stop at a sharp twist in the rock, they paused and turned back towards the surface. There, the two titans collided. Rebecca flinched as the behemoth swung some kind of crude weapon, feeling the ground shake with the resulting boom. Radioactive dust and rock filled the air and soon they lost sight of the battle.

“Down this way,” Nick said loudly and lead the way farther into the cave. 

Rebecca squeezed through a few tight spots, envious of the synth detective’s free movement. Like all the other caves, this one would be hard to navigate in her power armor. She dared not remove it though, for all the flawed protection it now offered her.

Nick did not bother asking how she was. It was obvious with her slowed, wobbly movements, that she was in danger. Instead, he pushed ahead and sought shelter. At this point, whether or not they found Virgil, this cave would have to do.

The corridor opened up to a long room. The detective froze in the doorway and Rebecca peered over his shoulder to see two metal turrets locked right on them. The turrets did not fire and gave no warning signs. 

“Why aren’t they shooting?” Rebecca asked incredulously. The last time she had faced turrets like these, they had fired on sight. These remained silent.

The detective shook his head, unable to answer. He stepped into the room with slow, even steps. “Hard to say,” he said as they passed the watchful defenses. “Maybe they realize we’re no threat? Can’t say we pose as much of a one compared to what’s outside. Programming must be different.”

Rebecca was inclined to agree. They passed the turrets and found themselves in a larger room divided by several natural rock formations. It was dark, the only lights coming from a few harsh spotlights. Metal table and cabinets filled the room while cracked wooden pallets served as a floor. In one corner she saw some kind of kitchenette, only the stove was being used as a computer desk. A terminal, flickering with green script, sat on the burners.

“I guess we found him,” she said in awe. 

“First we need to flush those rads. Seems safe enough down here. Take that suit off,” Nick ordered and dug in his pockets for the medicine. Rebecca did as he said, disengaging the suit’s frame and stepping out of it. Her knees wobbled and she crumpled to the ground. “They did a number on ya already, didn’t they?”

It wasn’t a question. Nick crouched beside her and uncapped the needle for the radaway. Grabbing her wrist, he pushed her sleeve up and, finding her vein with this thumb, administered the medicine. “That should do it,” he said with forced calmness. “Sit tight and I’ll take a look around.”

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. They heard heavy footsteps approaching and a voice call out, indignant and angry. “Who’s that? I know they sent you. Don’t bother denying it!”

There wasn’t a question who this ‘they’ was. Rebecca wanted to stand, to be able to defend herself and explain why she was in this place, but she was just too weak. Her stomach was heaving with nausea and she curled in on herself. The medicine was ice in her veins. It hurt nearly as much as the rads themselves did, but she had to trust that it was working.

“Don’t hide,” the voice continued, approaching from a lower level. “There. Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?”

Rebecca stared in shock. The man standing before her, fists clenched, was a super mutant. His clothing was stretched across his frame and a pair of glasses sat balanced on his nose. 

“I’m...I’m not from the Institute,” she said. “Really. They’re my enemy too.”

“What?” 

“I’m guessin’ you’re Virgil, then. Look, we’ve come a long way and she needs some rest. Your deathclaw friend nearly destroyed her suit. If we could just have a moment, we could explain ourselves and avoid any trouble.” Nick spread out his hands. He stood slightly in front of her, shoulders tense. At his words, Virgil frowned and took in the sight. “Like she says, we aren’t with the Institute. If we were, we would’ve been a lot more prepared to tackle the radiation.”

The explanation eased some of the tension in the room. Virgil scowled and looked down at Rebecca. “Coming here was foolish,” he said. “You’ll need more radaway if you don’t want to die. Here, I have some you can use.” He retrieved some more medicine and passed it to Nick, who prepared it for use. “Now, you’re going to tell me exactly who you are, and how you found me.”

Rebecca protested when Nick started to explain. “No, it’s my story. I can do this still.”

The detective eyed her for a few moments before nodding. He remained wary but kept his silence.

“Okay. My name’s Rebecca. I am trying to get inside the Institute because they stole something of mine. My child. You are my only lead at this point, and I’m hoping you can help me.” The woman swallowed back the nausea that was threatening to overpower her. “I know it’s nothing to do with you, and you’re probably not interested. Just hear me out. I need to get there, Doctor. Someone has to put a stop to...all this kidnapping.”

Virgil sighed. “If that’s true, then I’m sorry. I can try to help you, but I doubt that it’ll do any good. But first, tell me how you found me.”

“I took out a mercenary named Kellogg - “

“Did you really?” Virgil interrupted her. “Kellogg’s dead?”

“Yes. He won’t be coming here. I...was able to access his memories and it led to you. There, that’s the story.” Rebecca leaned back against the rock wall and sighed. Fatigue settled over her and all she wanted was to sleep. If, of course, she could avoid vomiting at any second.

The scientist seemed satisfied by her explanation. “The only way inside the Institute is through the molecular relay,” he said, beginning what would probably be a long explanation. “The signal is used by all the coursers and patrols here on the surface. It dematerializes you in one place and rematerializes you in another. I’m not sure exactly how it works. I was Bioscience, not Advanced Systems. If you are still interested in getting inside, you’ll need to find a courser and take their chip. You can hijack the signal and it will send you instead.”

The words spun in Rebecca’s head. Her head felt like she was underwater. She ached and burned, struggling to make sense of what he had said. For his knowledge of rads, Virgil seemed not to understand the need to be slow and clear.

She knew that the Institute used teleportation. That information wasn’t new. But this information about a courser chip could be of some help. 

Grimacing, she looked up at Nick for clarification.

He caught on to her confusion. Kneeling beside her once more, he set her up with another dose of radaway. “Looks good,” he said for her benefit. Whether or not it really did look good was another story, but the woman accepted his assurance anyway. 

“A relay, huh?” Nick turned to look over at Virgil. The detective was intent, his expression focused. “Assuming we find one of these coursers and take them out, how do we use the chip?”

“I can give you the schematics for a transporter.”

“You just said you weren’t Advanced Systems,” Rebecca countered. Apparently, the rad sickness was making her rude, too.

Virgil shook his head and turned to his makeshift laboratory. She thought she truly had offended him at first until he returned with some notes and fresh paper. “I can manage this. Colleagues told me enough. Give me time and I’ll draw it up for you.”

The conversation ended there. Without another word, the scientist turned around and set about sketching the so-called transporter. 

Rebecca despaired. This was helpful information, but she would be lying if she wasn’t intimidated. She had come so far, and the confidence that had given her paled in comparison to what she had yet to do. It seemed that every time she thought herself caught up, a new road opened up before her. Traveling to Diamond City for help, having to rescue Nick, tracking Kellogg miles out of the city...it was all starting to wear on her.

Tears filled her eyes. She hurt so much, and they still had to make it out of the Glowing Sea. The thought of doing so - hours over difficult terrain and against the odds - made her want to cry. 

Still, her determination had not wavered. She would see this to the end, one way or another, but she was just so tired. It was frustrating, too. She had to do all of this, dance this terrible tango, just because the Institute had decided to steal one innocent baby. The cruelty of it struck anew and she struggled against the grief in her heart.

A hand settled on her shoulder. She looked over to see Nick seated next to her, holding out a dose of rad-x. There was a kind understanding in his eyes, like he had guessed her thoughts. Offering him a weak, sad smile, she swallowed the medicine and closed her eyes. Maybe a rest would help. 

She dozed fitfully. Bile kept rising in her throat and she choked it back each time. 

Nick remained at her side. He eyed her with concern but let her rest. Instead, he checked their supplies and reloaded his weapons. He, too, was achingly tired. So far, according to a diagnostic scan, the radiation hadn’t done anything to his systems. That was a shock, as he expected the high levels to do some damage, but he kept that thought to himself. No sense worrying anyone else.

Virgil worked quickly but it took time for him to design the teleporter. Hours passed.

The rest was a necessary reprieve from the surface above their heads. Soon, though she was still feeling sick, Rebecca began to feel better. Several doses of radaway had done wonders to her, and she thanked whatever scientific marvel had pulled it off. She was alive, at least for now, and that was a miracle.

Once the schematics were complete, Virgil offered them to Rebecca on one condition.

“If you get inside, you have to do something for me,” he said evenly. He held the papers still, and it was clear he would wait for her agreement. “I was working on a cure for...this,” here he glanced down at himself, “when I left. You get in there and go down to the old Bioscience lab. The serum should still be there. Bring it to me. I need it, badly. I don’t know how much longer I have.”

Rebecca agreed. She stood on shaky legs and accepted the notes. “I’ll do it. So, how do I use these?”

“To find a courser, you can track their relay signal. Tune that Pip-Boy of yours to the low end of the band, in the classical station. You should be able to pick up the disturbance and follow it to the courser. Probably should start your search at the ruins of the old C.I.T. building. Take care. Coursers are the Institute’s top agents. They are built to fight and kill.” Virgil looked solemnly down at her as he said this. “Once you have the chip, and have the teleporter built, use the signal to lock on to the relay itself.” 

Virgil glanced over at the suit of power armor. “I have a way to get you two out of the Glowing Sea, as well. Other than that, I can’t help you.”

He offered them a relay of his own design. It had an incredible range and would, he suspected, land them just outside the Glowing Sea. He waved a hand at Rebecca’s protest. If there came a time for him to leave the area, he would figure out something else. 

It didn’t seem like he had much faith in that ever happening.

Rebecca climbed back into the power armor. It wasn’t ideal, but if the relay didn’t get them out of the area completely, she wanted some protection. 

“Remember, find a courser. Take the chip and hijack the relay’s signal. When you get inside, bring me back my serum. I...I’m sorry about all of this, and for what they did to you. Good luck,” Virgil said and stepped back, shaking off his sentimentality. 

With a look over at Nick, who nodded once, Rebecca activated the relay.


	15. Chapter 15

Rebecca pulled herself from the suit, breath heaving in her chest. She fell backward as she did so, landing wearily on the rocky ground. Her skin was clammy and her stomach cramped tightly. She stretched out on the ground, just trying to savor the feeling of solid earth beneath her. The teleportation had left her reeling and she squeezed her eyes shut against the rising tide of nausea.

“Efficient,” Nick Valentine said as he, too, regained his composure. One hand was splayed against the trunk of a nearby tree while the other scrubbed at his face. “Not my desired way to travel, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t efficient. Hey, now.” He moved to her side and held out a hand. “Head between the knees. Deep breaths.”

Rebecca did so and slowly the world stopped spinning. “I think it might be a bit of an acquired taste,” she drawled irritably. She wondered if all Institute staff used the same method of travel, and if so, how long it took to get accustomed to it. “I feel like I just got out of a washing machine.”

“You don’t look like it,” the synth replied with humor, referring to her present lack of cleanliness. “Speaking of. How about you wash up a bit? And take another dose of this while you’re at it. We can flush the last of your rads later, when we get to somewhere more secure.” He pulled the sealed bottle of rad-x from one of his pockets and left it beside her. “I’ll be just over there.”

When he disappeared beyond the next rise (his own change of clothing in hand) the woman took the bottle and swallowed two of the small capsules. They tasted vile and she wished for nothing more than a cold Nuka-Cola to wash away the acrid taste. But, to her disappointment, she remembered that all of her food had already been eaten. There had been no point in rationing the supply as neither had seen any of it making it safely through the Glowing Sea. Ingesting radioactive food would do her more damage, and far quicker, than anything short of jumping in one of the molten pits.

She stripped and tossed aside every scrap of clothing before returning to the pack still secured in the power armor. Avoiding the metal frame itself - for fear of contamination - she grabbed her supplies and retreated back a distance before starting to clean herself.

The soap was scentless and had little moisturizing properties, but she figured this best. All she needed was to scrub away any trace of exposure and a conditioning agent might cause the rads to stick to her more. Once she deemed herself clean, from her skin to her hair, she pulled on the clothes that had been packed in the bag. The worn jeans and warm jacket were a boon to her aching body.

“And another set of clothes goes into the dumpster. I wonder how normal that is, or if I’m some kind of freak.” She applied a stimpak to her arm for good measure and took a deep breath, feeling for any trace of weakness. Asides from her fatigue (and the residual, hellishly persistent sick feeling), she felt fine. Lots of rest - and some more radaway, to be sure - and she would be running again.

Nick rejoined her then, wearing another variant of the common wasteland garb. “A few more outfits like this, and I may just pass for a farmer.”

“Looks like you missed your calling. If you start now, in a just few years the Valentine Fruit Farm will be a huge success. People from all over will trade for your renowned...mutfruit, is it?” Rebecca couldn’t remember what they were called, those small plum-like fruits that grew so readily across the Commonwealth.

“That’s the one. I’ve got the blueprints up here,” he said and tapped the side of his head. “That is, if the agency ever goes under.”

“Now that would be a shame. You doing okay?”

“Sure, sure.” Nick waved a hand. “A few new dents and a scrape or two, but nothing I can’t get fixed.” He left out the part about how lucky they were. That they managed to survive the journey to Virgil’s cave was a incredible enough. Add that to said scientist’s offer of a one-time teleportation trick and they had pulled off a miracle.

He eyed the power armor dubiously. “You might as well leave that here. At least, for now. It’ll be too hot to take back with us, unless we want to turn everyone in Sanctuary into ghouls.”

“You don’t think he will mind? He wanted to use it for the Minutemen.” Rebecca was concerned about her friend’s plan. Barnum had told her of his idea of keeping it at Sanctuary for anyone to use. If someone needed the muscle, or the protection, of the suit, they could borrow it. But now? Now it was a damaged husk of radioactive steel. It would be untouchable for quite some time.

“I believe he meant that _anyone_ could use it. You count as anyone.” Nick pointed a finger at her before shrugging. “There’ll be other suits of power armor. Believe it or not, the Brotherhood doesn’t have a monopoly. Now c’mon, let’s find ourselves somewhere to make camp.”

Rebecca didn’t bother arguing. They moved a distance away from the location in order to get away from the rads seeping from the abandoned materials. They followed the road back and Rebecca was heartened to see the stars and clear sky once more.

They found an abandoned patch of houses in a small valley. Checking to make sure that they were empty (they were - no radroaches in sight), they decided to claim the one that remained the most intact. An old sofa and ottoman greeted them on the downstairs level, as well as the remains of the old kitchen. The only food to be found was a dented can of beans and Rebecca pushed it aside for fear of spoilage.

While Nick searched for anything else useful, she wandered upstairs. She discovered a wooden bedframe in the upstairs bedroom. “That’ll make for an uncomfortable night’s sleep,” she said to herself as she inspected the bare frame. Turning away she ransacked the dresser. She hoped for clothes, maybe left behind by the prewar inhabitants, but found only a prewar hat. She rolled her eyes before rejoining Nick downstairs and offering it to him.

“Since you left your other one behind,” she said.

“Gee, thanks.” Nick took the hat and inspected it thoroughly, lips drawn into a smile. “I was feelin’ a bit cold, now that you mention it. But I think I’ll just wait. Old one’s got value, you see. Been through a lot together.”

“That’s fair,” Rebecca said with an amused chuckle. She honestly found it touching that the detective felt that way. She lowered her pack to the floor. “So, the bed upstairs isn’t exactly usable. I’ll take this side of the couch.” She sat down and leaned back into the soft fabric. Her body relaxed instantly.

The detective waved a hand again. “Make yourself comfortable. I don’t sleep. I’ll probably run some repairs later, but don’t worry about that.”

Rebecca stretched out and put her feet on the ottoman. “Well let me know if you need a hand. I’m no doctor, but I can follow instructions pretty well.”

Nick looked over at her in surprise. “Doctor, huh?”

“I told you, I was a lawyer. I dissected case files and criminal behavior, not bodies.”

“Right.” Though he wasn’t convinced, Nick seemed pleased. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s nothing that needs two sets of hands. Get some rest. And take some more radaway.”

The last bit was spoken with a hint of sternness. Rebecca rolled her eyes and dug into her pack. She administered the medicine, wincing at the slight sting. When it was done she leaned her head back, shifting until she found a comfortable position. Hearing the distant rumble of thunder, she pictured a spring thunderstorm and let it lull her to sleep.

 

The house was quiet when she woke up several hours later. The soft patter of rain struck the roof. The tail end of that thunderstorm, she figured. She assumed that it had not been radioactive, as her geiger counter remained silent and she felt no different. What she did feel, however, was sore.

Rebecca sat forward with a groan. Her entire body protested this movement and she reached behind her to rub her back. Hesitant to waste a stimpak, she leaned back again to rest. There would be little use traveling at this time anyway. Between the rain and the early hour it would make for a miserable start.

She woke a second time and found herself stretched out on her back. The rain had stopped and the sun, that welcoming golden yellow, shone through the broken windows. A warm breeze brought in the scent of some kind of wildflower. She smiled and remained there for a while, taking it all in.

It was a relief to be out of the reaches of the Glowing Sea.

Rebecca pulled the strap of her pack over her shoulders and walked out onto the porch. There she found her companion seated on the steps, cigarette in hand. He looked up at her approach and nodded a greeting.

“Discovered some wild mutfruit down the hill a bit,” he said and gestured towards a strand of green. He then held out a small bag stuffed with the small fruits. “Help yourself.”

The woman sat down and dug into the bag. “Thanks,” she said before biting into the first fruit. As she ate she was reminded of how long it had been since her last meal. “You getting a head start on your business, then? For a first harvest, these aren’t too bad.”

“No?” Nick replied easily. “That’ll be ten caps.”

“That’s outrageous. I’m your client.”

“I typically don’t feed my clients. They’ll keep coming back and expectin’ more.”

Rebecca opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut instead. “True. Fair enough. I’m sorry to inform you, but I spent all of my money on supplies. You’ll have to catch me later.”

“And so it goes,” Nick said dramatically and tossed aside the spent end of his cigarette. He snuffed it out with one foot before standing and looking towards Boston. “You ready to get moving? We’ve got a long trip back, but if you need to wait a bit yet that’s fine.”

“Yes, please. Let’s go.” Rebecca stretched before taking off down the remains of the road. “You know, I’m not made of porcelain. I can handle the hike back. I mean, I just survived the Glowing Sea.” She looked over at the synth walking next to her. There was a thread of warning in her tone. “I’m not going to break now.”

Nick cleared his throat. “I know,” he replied. “It’s just...honestly, sometimes I forget to slow down when I have someone with me. Bad habit of mine. I can take a beating and it’s not like I need to rest like you do.”

Rebecca nodded in understanding. He was afraid that he was rushing her. She appreciated the thought, and she could see why the others had warned her of his dedication. When he set his mind to something, not much would get in his way. And if someone else happened to be traveling with him, they would need to keep up.

“It’s gotten me into trouble a few times. More than a few. I don’t often travel with others, and even less often someone like me.” Here he shrugged before glancing over earnestly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re gonna break.”

The woman smiled to show that it was all forgiven. “I get it. Really,” she said. “I came out of the vault running. I was scared to come to the surface. I didn’t know what I would find, but I knew it was better than staying down there. And then making that trip to Diamond City for the first time? It gave me a quick appreciation for the cars we used to have.”

At this Nick chuckled knowingly. “Yeah. Bit of a walk, isn’t it?”

“You could say that. We had to move fast and avoid trouble.”

“That’s the rule. Make it quick and keep your head on a swivel. You live alongside mutants and raiders for so long, it becomes habit.”

Rebecca nodded and looked towards Boston. It was only because of rules like these that people managed to make homes in the prewar city. It upset her that it had come to that, but it also gave her heart. These people had managed to adapt and survive and like always that amazed her.

And now that she had the knowledge of how to get into the Institute, she could see what was behind the secretive group frightening the Commonwealth. Perhaps something could be done. What, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like she would be able to kindly ask them to stop. The Institute undoubtedly had their reasons for the actions they took. They weren’t ones she understood, or even approved of, but perhaps she could at least find out what was going on.

And find her son. The thought of seeing him again filled her with joy. She refused, or at least tried, to consider what would happen if he was not there. Or if he didn’t know who she was.

The Institute had raised him. He would know little outside of what they chose to teach him. While some of that would be good - the science, the advanced technology, and other general studies - it would probably be skewed. What if they hadn’t told him about her? What if he had no knowledge of his real parents?

No. If they had taken him, he would be safe. And if they were so keen on her family (for whatever reason), then he would at least know her. They had probably kept an eye on her. The Institute was famous for its surveillance, after all.

All she had to do was reach them.

 

The Red Rocket station appeared quiet at first. Rebecca wondered if Anna was helping at Sanctuary still, as she had taken the idea of rebuilding the town to heart.

Cresting the hill south of the building, they smelled dinner. Rebecca’s stomach clenched with hunger. She had eaten little on the return journey except for the mutfuit, and those did not last long.

“Shift must be over,” Nick said with a chuckle.

They found the woman in question behind the building. She was seated on a concrete block near a small firepit, eyes unfocused as she slowly stirred the stew bubbling before her. Dogmeat was asleep on a sofa nearby, rolled onto his back and paws twitching as he dreamed. The pup was obviously too tired to beg for scraps.

“What’s for dinner?” Rebecca asked as they drew near.

Anna looked up in surprise, eyes widening. “Holy shit, you’re back!” she said. She rushed over and embraced both of them tightly. “Not a rad in sight, too. How was it? You find the scientist?”

“Yes. He was living in a cave pretty far into the sea itself. It wasn’t too far from where the one of the bombs fell, come to think of it.”

Anna frowned. “How? Just a cave, huh? I can’t imagine. What kind of technology did he have?”

“It wasn’t technology as much as physical resistance,” Nick replied. “Virgil is a super mutant. He must’ve been infected with FEV before he left the Institute.”

“Damn.” Anna shook her head, disgust in her eyes. “That’s how they repay their own scientists. Anything for science, I suppose. He helped you though, right?”

Rebecca nodded solemnly. “I have plans here for a teleporter of some kind. I’ll need help building it and gathering the materials. A lot of it is so...confusing. Here, take a look.” She pulled out the rolled blueprint and passed them over to Anna. The scavver inspected them eagerly. “If we make it, it can take me right into the Institute itself.”

Anna moved over to sit on the sofa. Dogmeat woke at her presence, sniffing the air instinctively as he looked around. When he spotted the two newcomers he bolted from the cushions and greeted them heartily.

“Hey there, boy,” Rebecca reached down to scratch the shepherd's ears. He licked her hands happily before turning to the synth next to her.

Nick laughed at Dogmeat’s enthusiasm and crouched to greet him properly. “Careful there, partner. It almost looks like you missed me.”

Anna looked up from the blueprint. She smiled at the dog’s interactions. “Good news is,” she said after a few moments, holding out the blueprint again. “Most of this stuff can be built using materials we can find out here. A few things though, not so much. I don’t exactly carry sensor modules in stock. We could try medical facilities, or military bunkers, for these things.”

“You could also ask your other friends,” Nick said without looking up. “If they want to go after the Institute as much as you do, they can help you find the rest.”

Rebecca nodded at their suggestions. “They’re probably going to want to know about this anyway,” she said as she thought of the Railroad. A way to directly send her to the Institute? Of course the Railroad would want to know. Who knows what kind of information could be gathered?

“One more thing.” Anna stood up and returned to the firepit. She fixed Rebecca with a stern expression, one eyebrow raised. “How do we get this signal we need? I assume it’s nothing good.”

“A courser chip,” Rebecca replied quietly. As the words came out of her mouth, dread clenched her stomach. Virgil had given her advice on how to find a courser and then extract the chip that she could use for the teleporter. It sounded insane. “I’ll need to take out a courser and take the chip that connects them to the main molecular relay. We program it into the teleporter, we can tap into the relay.”

Anna paled slightly. “I see.” She turned her attention back to the stew before her and continued stirring. Moments passed as she seemed to be considering this. “Sounds like a one time deal. And to fight a courser. They’re the Institute’s top thugs, or so I hear. That won’t be an easy fight.”

“We’ve fought worse,” Nick said. He had sat on the cracked pavement and was idly petting Dogmeat, who had his head in the detective’s lap. “Trouble will be finding them. Virgil said that we could track them through the Pip-Boy. Their signal goes through the low end of the spectrum.”

“Well that’s obvious,” Anna said with an undignified snort. She tested the stew and nodded to herself before gesturing towards the building. “You want to grab some silverware? We can talk as we eat.”

Eager to eat something warm, Rebecca headed inside. On the coffee table in the back were several spoons and a few stacked bowls. Grabbing enough for both of them, she returned to the firepit and handed them over.

“So what’s this dish?” she asked as she eyed the hearty-looking meal.

“Brahmin stew. Not a fancy name, I know. But just want until you try it.” Anna took the two bowls and filled them both to the top. “I don’t get to make it much.”

Rebecca took the bowl and cradled it between her hands. The season was starting to get cooler and she relished the warm meal. As she ate she saw bits of vegetables and spices she figured were universal to Commonwealth cooking. The meal itself was familiar and she smiled, making a note to herself to add it to her revised cookbook.

“We’re going to need extra guns, anyway.” Anna set her bowl aside and leaned forward, chin on her clasped hands. “I’ve never seen a courser, but all rumors paint them as these tough-as-nails guys who can take out any enemy. You run this by your friends and see what they think, and we’ll start getting together all this material. Sound good?”

“Fine with me. The sooner we get this done, the better.” Rebecca frowned down at the bowl in front of her, eyeing the leftover smears of gravy. “I’ll head out for HQ soon and get some reinforcements. You think I could get some more of that?”

With an indulgent smile, perhaps pleased with her own cooking, Anna filled her bowl once more. She looked up at the sky. “I know of some places to get scrap. Honestly, it’s about time I head out anyway. Here, hand me that Pip-Boy of yours.” She held out a hand and Rebecca passed it over. “These are some of the locations we could try.”

“I’ll tackle the military base,” Nick offered. “They’re usually locked up tight, but I know a few tricks to get past those terminals. That also means that they’ve probably been secure since the war, so there’s a good chance they’ve got what you need.”

“When I get the scrap together, I’ll hit the hospital. Ev, you want to get the radio tower? Good. When you get the go-ahead from HQ, let us know where to meet and we’ll bring the supplies. For now, finish up that bowl and get some rest.”

Rebecca did as the scavver pointedly suggested. She offered to help clean up (Anna was thankful, but turned her down) before heading over to Sanctuary.

There, Barnum pulled her into a relieved hug. He waved off her apology for the suit of power armor, claiming that it was nothing and besides, he knew radiation.

“If we need another, we’ll find one. Honestly, though the protection would be nice, it’s not the look I was going for.” He clapped her on the shoulder with a laugh. “You should see ‘em, the new uniforms I got for our little band. Found them at the old fort on the coast. Tomorrow, when you get time. I’ll show you.”

The former merchant turned and walked away. Rebecca rolled her eyes, amused by his honest enthusiasm. The Minutemen needed someone to help put them back together, and he fit the bill. She admired his efforts and thought that maybe she could help them more someday. When she had figured out her own troubles, she could devote her time to their cause. After all, their goal of reuniting the Commonwealth was one she shared. And perhaps making the Commonwealth safer would help synths, too.

 

A buzz at his door broke Father’s concentration. He glanced up with a frown before carefully setting aside his paperwork, folding it away and out of sight.

“Come in,” he said and the door slid open to reveal Justin Ayo. Father straightened at the sight, standing and demanding a full report.

“They are back,” Ayo said. “My scouts have reported that Rebecca and the synth have made it safely out of the red zone. They will know where Virgil is. Let me send in a courser and he can be brought in.”

Father waved a hand, tired of this argument already. “In time. They will still need to be outfitted. Even your coursers cannot survive that much radiation, I understand. We also have no exact coordinates to Virgil’s location.”

“Then bring her in and get them from her.” Ayo was exasperated.

“No,” the director replied evenly. He had made up his mind. “She is making her way her on her own. Keep your eye on her and record her movements. The longer we wait to introduce ourselves and our spying, the more she will reveal. We already know how much she travels to and from Goodneighbor, and how tied she is to some of our more interesting targets. Set your agents to watching her, and keep those birds of yours at work. We need this information.”

Justin Ayo nodded, though a bit reluctantly. This information was too good to pass up, however, and so he agreed. “Do you think she’s found our secretive friends?”

Father thought about this, turning to look out the great curved window that overlooked the main foyer. “I have considered the possibility, yes. I was hoping - I still hope - that she’ll come around in due time. When she gets here, I will speak with her. She’ll see sense and realize the good we’re doing for mankind.”

“And the influence of her friends?”

“Friends of convenience,” Father corrected with frown. He could see a faint reflection of himself in the window. White hair. Wrinkled, thinning skin. He looked away and turned to face Ayo once more. “They were the first people she came across, correct? Of course they are her friends. She’ll come here biased due to those on the surface corrupting her view, but once she sees our work that’ll change. I trust in that and so should you. As for Virgil, I doubt he’ll survive the Glowing Sea for much longer. And if so, he won’t be leaving. Now, was there anything else you needed to report?”

When the head of the Synth Retention Bureau shook his head, Father dismissed him. He felt yet another headache starting behind his eyes and sighed, wondering if he should call for the physician. They were becoming more frequent and that wouldn’t do. Matters on the surface, matters that influenced their operations, were growing more and more serious. He couldn’t afford to be out of commission. But in the end he decided not to press the button that would call the only person who knew of his condition. He would wait it out.

Father took a seat at his desk again and continued to look over his paperwork. He was eager to meet Rebecca and get to know her. Though it was unfortunate that they had been separated, he knew it was for the best. The world had ended and now the world needed to be rebuilt. By finding him the Institute had found a scientific treasure and had utilized that in the efforts to help mankind.

And when his mother came to the Institute, she would help. Together they would take the world back from the nuclear wasteland. Redefine mankind as a whole. Eventually the Institute would be able to emerge and rebuild the world. It was a lofty goal, and he wasn’t naive enough to think it would be easy. No, it would take time. But that future was something worth working towards. No matter what obstacles stood in their way.


	16. Chapter 16

The backyard needed work, Rebecca decided. Now that the house was mostly repaired it was time for her to turn her attention to the yard itself. She had always wanted a small garden to tend to. Roses, lavender, foxglove. Whatever looked best. True, the postwar world didn’t really have much of a variety but maybe she could make something work.

She surveyed the dried yard with a critical eye. The fence needed patching and the patio was overgrown with weeds. A smile crossed her face as she stood there, unintimidated by the work it would take. It would be a process like anything else. Perhaps cleaning it all up would be good for her and the town. Morale seemed to be doing fine, considering the dangers they faced everyday, but it could always use a boost. 

Most of the fencing was still around. Rebecca set about digging the boards out of the ground and setting them aside. The soil was cool and damp. She sifted it through her fingers, the simple action soothing away all the worries that sat on her shoulders. If she closed her eyes and tried hard enough, she could almost hear the neighbors laughing through their kitchen window. 

But there was laughter. There was no need to pretend. She glanced up and saw a few of the new settlers passing by and they were all laughing at a joke one of them had made. Their joy, a joy that not even the nuclear wasteland could ruin, was infectious. It proved that even now happiness could be found if one bothered to look for it.

“Mum, I would be remiss if I did not tell you to be careful. Some of those might be quite...dangerous to handle.” Codsworth floated out from the house and held out a pair of old gloves. “Please, put these on at least. I would hate to think about infection.”

Rebecca did so without complaint. They were a bit large on her hands and there was a hole or two, but they would do wonders to help keep her hands safe from any errant splinter. “Hey, Codsworth. Would you like to give me a hand here? I was going to clear it and make some kind of garden. I would like your input.”

“Oh, I’d be honored,” Codsworth replied and moved over to the area where she worked. “I remember you and sir sitting out here in the evenings. Always wanted to enjoy the weather and take in all the good moments. As you’d always say, mum.”

The bot fell silent but Rebecca could tell that he wanted to continue. He carefully used the saw on one of his limbs to dig away at the soil before extracting another board with another. There was a growing pile in the center and soon they could be sanded and maybe even painted.

“Forgive me. I spoke without thinking and I know it's a tough subject.” 

The woman stopped what she was doing and looked up. “You don’t have to hold back. We can talk about it if you want.”

Codsworth seemed to consider this for a few moments. Eventually he stopped and turned to her. “I’m not really sure how to word this,” he began. “That day, the sirens went off and you left so quickly. I didn’t even know if you had made it. Afterward it was difficult and over the years I...had started to lose hope. Picturing the three of you happy down there is what kept me going. Happy and safe in the vault. I suppose that isn’t what actually happened.”

“No, I suppose not. I’m so sorry, Codsy. We just left you here that day and you must’ve been so lonely.” Rebecca wiped her hands on her jeans and blinked past the guilt she still felt. Though she knew that there really wasn’t anything they could have done. Vault-Tec would not have accepted a bot into the vault. “We never said goodbye or anything.”

“Don’t say that. You had to get to safety. You had to take care of your family.”

“But you are family.”

Codsworth paused and the moment dragged out in silence. “You really mean that, mum?”

“Of course I do. I always thought of you as family, even before the war. You lived with us, shared our lives, helped us with Shaun…” 

She smiled and pictured the first few days after they had returned from the hospital. The birth had gone as well as it could have and the doctors had let them go home once they made sure her and Shaun’s vitals were strong. She and Warren were tired upon returning home with Shaun, but their joy could not be smothered. Though a baby had not been in their original plans, and they would have been just as happy without one, they had made room in their lives for Shaun. 

Codsworth had taken to his new role eagerly. Rebecca spent those days resting and tending to Shaun while Warren took turns cooking and taking care of their newborn while she slept. Codsworth kept the house clean and organized, even though the three of them made it difficult. He had wanted a smooth transition into parenthood.

“I miss it all too,” Rebecca said. “I thought that if I worked hard enough, I could bring it back and have my life again, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. This is our world now and it’s not so bad. And we’re together. That’s what matters.”

“Yes, and when you bring young Shaun home, there will be a place here for him. I am proud of the work you all have put into this place. And...oh, this is difficult. I’m not familiar with emotions. General Atomics doesn’t add that to the standard model. I’m...happy, truly.”

Rebecca smiled fondly. “You’re alright,” she said in reference to his admission. She wondered how much that truly bothered him. Not to be able to really feel emotions? Or if he did, he didn’t know what to call them because he lacked the programming to know. It was deeply troubling, and she wasn’t even the one going through it. “Thanks for staying around, anyway. You didn’t have to. I must’ve missed you when I came out of the vault. I came here and everything, but didn’t see you.”

“I often took it upon myself to explore a bit. Sometimes I found supplies I thought you three could use, or I went in search of something to repair the house with. I tried, mum. I tried to keep it clean. But there isn’t much to be done about all this radiation rubbish.” Codsworth’s voice was momentarily laced with irritation and he returned to removing the fence.

“That could be it. I’m just glad you’re around still. It makes it easier, you know, to have an old friend to talk to. I can’t imagine the stuff you probably saw after we left.” It was another horrifying thought and she pushed it away. Civilization had likely collapsed in the months after the detonations. Anyone who didn’t die in the blast, or die of radiation poisoning shortly after, would have had to struggle to survive. Animals, lack of food or water, other people. Not to mention how the environment had changed and how many deaths that had caused. 

“No need, Miss Rebecca. It’s over now and we can keep working to make this place our new home. Thank you for hearing me out. Now,” he added and gestured to the boards with one limb. “Shall I go find us some paint?”

“Yes, please. Let’s get started.”

A few hours later, the town’s bell interrupted their peaceful work. Rebecca turned towards the sound and wondered who it was this time. The bell had been installed not long before, another proud creation of Barnum’s. It was used to gather the entire town together. They had developed different alerts for different things, Barnum claiming that it was no use everyone crowding the area for a trader unless they had an interest.

“I suppose we best get out there,” Rebecca said and waved a hand for Codsworth to follow. They met a few others in front of the bell and saw the pack brahmin and crates of a trader. She did not recognize him and this struck her as odd as usually the same ones passed through the area.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed the pair of familiar sunglasses. Her confusion turned into amusement and she watched from afar as the settlers haggled with Deacon. He played the part well, she had to admit. No one would be able to tell he was in disguise.

When the others finally turned back to their own business, Rebecca approached. “What kind of supplies do you have?”

“I recommend plenty of stimpaks myself. The wasteland's a nasty place. Oh, and perhaps some ammunition for that piece on your hip.” Deacon gestured to Deliverer and then fell quiet as he took in the surroundings. When he saw Codsworth hovering nearby, he waved a hand. “Anything you need, my friend? I’ve got the finest goods and the lowest prices this side of the Charles.”

Codsworth answered with a negative and, taking a cue from Rebecca, tipped his hat and disappeared. Though she had not told him about her work with the Railroad, he understood when he was not privy to a given conversation. 

“That sounds like a serious purchase. What do you think I’m going to be fighting?” Rebecca asked, folding her arms across her chest. She wasn’t sure why Deacon had traveled all the way to Sanctuary and she was afraid to find out.

“Hard to say, but you’ve heard the rumors I’m sure.”

“I see. Why don’t you come over here and we can strike some kind of deal.” She led the way over to a quiet spot near the stream. Here she judged no one would be able to hear them and they would be safe from curious eyes. “This place is safe. What’s going on?”

“We got some bad news,” Deacon said. “That package you sent out is stuck in transit. Can’t be transported will all the enemies around. Either we clear the area or find another route to send it.”

Rebecca went cold. “Is the package secure?”

The man nodded. “For now, but we can’t guarantee that for much longer. I believe you’ll want to handle this one yourself.”

“Done. Let me grab my stuff and take me to the site.” While he walked back to his supplies and pretended to dig through it, she hurried back to her old home. She found Codsworth still working in the yard and stopped to let him know she would be leaving. 

“Please be careful, mum.”

“I will, Codsy. I’ll be back soon.” She offered him a smile before packing her small stash of supplies in her bag and reuniting with Deacon.

Deacon explained the situation to her as they traveled. After getting the memory wipe, H2-22 and his escort were stuck in Goodneighbor due to Institute presence in the area. It was crucial that the agents stepped in to find a way around.

“Can we clear the area?” Rebecca asked. She would fight off Institute synths if she had to, but she knew from experience how difficult that was. And besides, she wanted to minimize any casualties - Railroad and Institute both.

“Technically. It’s not our best plan, but the situation needs immediate action. The original route is our best bet, so we need to get rid of all hostiles. I prefer to do these missions with more subtlety myself. Less chance of those eggheads catching us.”

“Yes, I think subtlety goes out the window when you get rid of the entire patrol.”

Deacon snorted a laugh. “Amari won’t like this, either.”

As they suspected, Doctor Amari was less than enthused about their plan. “I thought you agents preferred to work quietly,” she said with a frown. “But fine. But you must make sure that every single Institute synth is gone. Do you hear me? All of them.”

“Don’t worry, Amari.” Deacon offered her a forced smile. “We’ve got this. We’re professionals.”

“And one more thing. H2-22...won’t remember you.” Amari turned to Rebecca and her face was downcast. “He’s already been through the mind-wipe. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Rebecca said quietly. A twinge of sadness settled in her chest and she sighed. “I never got to say goodbye, did I?

“He spoke well of you. There is a holotape,” Amari said and tilted her chin towards the upstairs. “He wanted me to give it to you the next time you came by. Good luck, agents. And when you leave, remember: you were never here. I never saw you.”

Upstairs, Rebecca claimed the holotape. She tucked it away in her pack. She would listen to it later, when she was alone and ready to hear it.

“We all set?” Deacon asked.

“Yes. Let’s get going.”

 

The flash of gunshots erupted, followed by an explosion. Rebecca turned towards it. A semi, carrying a fuel tank, was completely ablaze. She could see the silhouettes of raiders against the flames, their forms scattering from one spot of cover to the next. They were panicking. Something was attacking them, and it was something they were ill-equipped to handle.

“That’s not our circus,” Deacon said and gestured for her to follow. “Let’s go this way. Malden has always been a bad spot. Raiders, mutants, you name it.”

“Right.” Rebecca noticed that the raiders were indeed fighting super mutants. The fight was not too far away. Upon closer inspection, it looked like the building (a hospital, from the look of it) was a mutant nest, and the raiders had gotten too close. As they snuck around the fight, Rebecca was forced to realize just now numb she had grown to the wasteland. Raiders, radiation, constant danger. It no longer shocked her. That was frightening, perhaps more so than the dangers themselves.

“Our targets should be around here,” Deacon said. “There they are. Oh, well it looks like she’s got it taken care of.” He let out a short laugh and held up a hand to stop Rebecca.

Ahead of them, another agent took on several older generation synths. It was Glory, the minigun-wielding agent from when Rebecca first met the Railroad. She still had the same weapon, and used it with deadly efficiency against the synths. Bullets peppered the pavement and the thick plastic armor the synth’s wore. It was loud, too, but just as Rebecca went to cover her ears, the battle was over.

Deacon whistled as he approached Glory. He coughed and waved a hand as if to bat away smoke. “Well, well. Come to give us a hand?”

The woman barked out a laugh. “You’re here too? So HQ had to send all our top agents out tonight, I guess. What a waste.” She rolled her eyes and looked over at Rebecca. “I’ve wanted to see you in action, Fixer. Perfect timing.”

“Did they really send you as well?” Rebecca asked.

“I certainly didn’t wander this way on my own. I’m here to help out another safehouse. They send out a message to send in the big guns, ‘cause they need an area cleaned up. They got me.” The woman raised her minigun for emphasis. The end of the barrel was still smoking. “And let me guess, Amari sent her own message? I thought so.”

Sending three agents after one message did seem like a waste, but Rebecca remembered what they knew about the area and was thankful for the extra help. “Well, we better make the most of it. Unless this was all there was?”

“Oh, no. There’s more inside. If you guys are ready, let’s clear them out.”

Malden Center was a subway station. Not surprisingly, it was taken over by raiders. The three agents found numerous bodies as they made their way down into the station proper. Each was either scorched by laser fire or torn apart by a set of hands. Rebecca felt bile rise in the back of her throat as she realized that synths - Institute controlled ones - were capable of such raw, bloody damage. Whether it was programming, or some had done it of their own volition, she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Ah,” Glory said with distaste. “Dammit. More gen 1s and 2s. I don’t know, can’t we just scare them off? I already killed a few of them.”

The trio peered into the open area. Rebecca counted at least half a dozen synths and she prepared herself to fight. 

“We don’t have time, Glory. Besides, you know as well as I do that they’ll try to kill us. No, let’s not fight about it right now. Maybe later.” Deacon pulled out his rifle and checked the ammunition. His tone had been stern and even Glory seemed to know better than to argue with him. “Looks like the raiders are taking care of some of them for us, so hopefully if we come along behind them, we can just get rid of the rest. Let’s move.”

They stuck together, backs to each other, as they worked their way into the room. When one agent had to reload, or one was shot and had to pick themselves back up, the other two stood defensively over them. When all the hostiles were down, circuits still sparking on a few of them, the agents paused to regroup. Deacon wrapped gauze around his upper arm, face drawn with pain, while Glory reloaded her minigun. 

Deacon was right. The bodies of raiders were rivaled by the bodies of synths deeper into the subway. They looted the bodies for ammunition and the occasional stimpak.

Some areas of the subway were collapsed. Piles of rubble gathered in the corners and blocked entire hallways, rebar poking out of them like the fingers of a giant skeleton. Rebecca swallowed as she felt the walls closing in on her. It was a dizzying feeling and she stopped momentarily, her hand on a wall for balance. The others looked at her in askance, but had the grace not to say anything. She was thankful for that and, shaking her head to clear it, she pushed onward. 

They came upon another open area. This one was much bigger and it was clear that the raiders had made it their home. Wooden shacks and partitions separated the areas into numerous living quarters and bedrooms. The frames extended high, close to the ceiling, and there were lookout posts and turrets for defense.

The agents hid in the shadows of the corridor and watched the last fight unfold. The shadows were deep, lit sporadically by the flash of intense blue light. Shouts and screams echoed against the concrete. Trills and automatic fire from the turrets ended in loud explosions, indicating that they had been destroyed. It was chaotic; an all-out war.

“I don’t think the raiders will win this fight,” Rebecca said. She felt bad, in a way. They were still people and they were dying. But then again, she found herself sad about the synths, too. Assuming it  _ was _ just their programming, it wasn’t like they had a choice but to fight.

“No,” Deacon agreed. He crouched down and scrubbed a hand against his chin. “Let’s just wait and see. We don’t want to dive right into the middle of this.”

Minutes passed until the fight ended. As they suspected, the synths were the victors. They were injured, though, and in a far fewer number.

“Alright, I count seven of them. Glory, you take those three in the open there. Fixer, get the two up top, and I’ll take the ones in the back. Got it?”

“Sure,” Glory said and readied her minigun.

Rebecca traced a quick route up to the two synths in question. “Yeah.”

The agents snapped into action. Rebecca dashed to the side, avoiding detection, and slipped up the staircase to the upper level. Pausing just below the top floor, she eyed the two synths. They had noticed the commotion below and were busy shooting. She took careful aim at one of them and squeezed the trigger, but the synth ducked and she missed. They turned on her, their movements quick and sure.

She threw herself to the side. The shot illuminated the worn wooden structure and the ragged furniture therein. Right as it darkened again, she twisted and fired. It caught the synth in their jaw and they reeled back, neck popping. She shot again and again, her bullets burying themselves in the synth’s neck and chest. Electricity fizzed from their body as they fell, landing heavily on the floor.

The second synth rushed towards her. She pushed herself backward, feet skidding, but was too slow. They seized her, clamping metal fingers around her throat and lifting her off the floor. Panic flared in her chest. Her breath was completely cut off and she felt their fingers pinching, drawing blood. She twisted her lower body, trying to break free, but the synth held fast. 

Shadows closed in around her vision.

The pain - the choking pain - 

She couldn’t see -

With an almost mechanical hiss, the synth wrenched her around and threw her into the nearest wall. She slammed into it and collapsed onto the counter below, scattering old tin cans and a plate of food. Deliriously she felt herself buckle and roll to the floor. Her hands went to her throat as she gasped and choked for air. She looked up through bleary eyes to see the synth standing over her, eerily still with their hands resting loosely by their sides. There was no emotion on their face.

One step closer. Two.

Her rifle had fallen from her hands and was too far away for her to grab. She had to move; she needed that weapon. She started to do so, heedless of her pain, but before she could reach the gun, the synth landed on her back and pinned her to the floor.

A hand shoved her face down. Fingers, thin and strong, curled around her skull. She felt the rough, unpolished wood scratch against her cheek. The synth laughed, or so she thought. A faint, halting laugh. The unsettling sound caused her to panic anew, her heart slamming against her ribs. This synth...they were laughing at her?

Rebecca scrambled, hand searching for a weapon. A knife, a board. Hell, a brick would do. Her fingers grazed something and she tugged it towards her. An oil canister, mostly empty. She pulled it around, wincing at the pain, and struck the synth in the side. They rolled away and she did the same. She reclaimed her rifle and shot several times before the synth could come back towards her. The force shoved the synth backwards. Wasting no time, and no bullets, she made sure the synth was dead.

She fell back against the counter, panting and nursing her throat. It stung, with a deeper ache that she knew meant bruises. The synth lay at her feet, sparks traveling erratically along their exposed circuitry like tiny blue fireflies. She eyed the body with concern, finding it hard to believe that it was just programming that had made them so violent. Their actions had been unlike any other synth she had ever faced. Was this one responsible for the raiders she’d seen - raiders with broken limbs and ripped flesh? And...could that really be just programming? If it was, shame on the Institute for giving their synths the code for such behavior. If it wasn’t…

No. That was a thought for another day. The Commonwealth, the Railroad even, was torn enough about synths. If older models were capable of sentience, and therefore their own thoughts and actions, people would only fear them more.

Rebecca eventually left the shack and made her way down the steps. Glory and Deacon had regrouped in the center of the room and cheered when they saw her.

“That,” Glory said firmly. “Is how it’s done.”

“Geez Fixer. What the hell happened to you?” Deacon asked, gesturing to her neck. 

Rebecca waved a hand. Patting her bag, she fished out a stimpak and injected it into her shoulder. The cooling effect helped to soothe the aches in her body and she sighed. “I’m fine,” she lied. Her voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat, aware of the other two staring at her.

“Fine?” Deacon said, eyebrows raising. “It looks like one of them tried to rip your head off. Damn, you really do have all the fun. Carrington is going to take a look at you when we get back. Until then, take another stim.”

Glory knocked her elbow against Rebecca’s. “Carrington will set you right. Been there. Just take it easy and you’ll be alright. Who knows, maybe you’ll get a kickass scar or two.” With a wink, she raised her voice. “Well, I’ll see you guys around. I’m going to check this place out, and make sure it’s all clear.”

Waving to her, Rebecca and Deacon left the room. Deacon eyed her wounds with scrutiny, but refrained from mentioning them again. Their progress was slow, due to both of  their injuries, but eventually they made it back to the surface.

“And another night sneaking underground with you. Taking out hostiles and fetching treasure.” Rebecca swallowed painfully and cursed herself for speaking. Taking another stim, she turned to him. “You okay? How’s your shoulder?”

“My baseball career might be over, I’m afraid,” Deacon replied. “I’m the Railroad’s best pitcher, you see. I might have to retire and let Drummer Boy take over.”

With an undignified snort, Rebecca returned her rifle to its holster and started up the stairs. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. Come on, chuckles. We have to let Amari know it’s safe for H2 to go.”


	17. Chapter 17

“How did this happen?” Carrington asked as he inspected Rebecca’s injuries.

She flinched at his touch. By now dark bruises had spread out across her throat in thin, finger-shaped lines. That she had to answer such an obvious question annoyed her. “Got caught by a synth,” she rasped. “Moved too slow.”

The doctor paused for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “I see. The good news is that nothing appears to be broken. The swelling will go down in time and you’ll heal. Take this.” He held out a stimpak and then returned with a can of purified water, some antiseptic, and what appeared to be some kind of salve. “Sit still. This will hurt.”

The antiseptic stung like acid and Rebecca knotted her fingers together in an effort not to slap the doctor’s hands away. When this was done, Carrington gently applied a layer of the salve before stepping away, wiping his hands on an old hand towel. With a nod, he turned to Deacon and begun to check the other agent’s shoulder.

“You’re back.” Desdemona approached and eyed them closely. “What happened? Is H2 clear to move?”

“Yeah, boss, Malden’s clean. Ouch! Jesus, take it easy, doc.” Deacon pulled away from Carrington and earned himself a glare. “To be honest, you didn’t have to send us. Glory had it under control.”

“I heard about that,” Desdemona replied with a shrug. “Security is worth the occasional crossed wire. I’ll send a message that H2 is safe to move. Sounds like he has quite the guardian angel,” she added and looked over to Rebecca with a knowing smile. “Get some rest, both of you. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

Rebecca wanted to ask her about help building the relay, but was too tired to bother. Instead, she found an open mattress and, pulling her jacket tight, laid down to sleep. It was hard to fall asleep with her bruised throat making it difficult to breathe. She rolled to her side, finding a somewhat comfortable position and closing her eyes.

She listened to the sounds the others made: muffled snores, papers being shifted or torn, quiet footsteps. Carrington spoke with Desdemona, but Rebecca couldn’t make out what they were saying. Maybe something about Malden, she thought. Or simply plans for the future.

A few hours later, and after some fitful sleep, Rebecca pulled herself to her feet. She finished the water Carrington had given her before gingerly touching her neck to check its healing. Sore, still, but at least some of the swelling had gone down. Thanking stimpaks and whoever had created them, she sought out Desdemona.

She found the Railroad’s leader sitting alone, cigarette between her teeth as she flipped through a stack of notes. Rebecca sat opposite her.

“Fixer,” Desdemona said with a nod. “How’re you feeling?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” Rebecca said quietly. She debated on how to word her request. “I have something I want to ask you. I need help. For myself, not necessarily for the Railroad. You guys might benefit, though.”

“We’ll help if we can,” Desdemona said slowly. She snuffed out the cigarette and gave Rebecca her full attention.

Rebecca cleared her throat to speak, wincing at the pain. “I have a way to get inside the Institute. A real way, not just distant plan. Problem is, I need help getting it all together.” She noticed Desdemona staring at her and smiled thinly. “I told you the Railroad might benefit.”

“A way inside,” Desdemona echoed. “How? Tell me everything, now.”

Rebecca told her about the teleporter and how she needed to get all the components together. When she mentioned that she needed a courser chip, Desdemona’s eyes widened and she stood up so abruptly that she knocked aside a few papers and they scattered across the concrete floor.

“Come with me,” she said and took off across the room.

They found Deacon seated at one of the desks and Desdemona gestured for him to join them. Telling the two of them to wait, she disappeared and returned with Tinker Tom. She pulled all three agents aside, where they couldn’t be overheard. Her back was straight and her shoulders were tense. The eagerness in her expression was tempered, undoubtedly from experience, but it couldn’t be smothered.

“We have a new development. Fixer claims to have a way to actually get inside the Institute,” she said.

Deacon’s eyebrows raised. “I told you she could get things done. What’s the plan, Fixer? Secret code? Tap dance?”

“If we could focus.” Desdemona shot him a glare.

“I am focused. I’m all set to go.”

Rebecca interrupted, holding up a hand. “I’ve got plans for a teleporter. It’ll get me inside, provided I have the right signal. I need help getting the parts, but I’ve got a few friends looking into it already. No, no, they don’t know about this place. And you can trust them,” Rebecca added, seeing the look in Desdemona’s eyes. She dug in her pocket and unfolded the blueprints. “Look. Like I told Dez, all I need now is a courser chip. That’s how I’m going to get a signal.”

“A real courser chip!” Tom stared at her in shock, barely containing his excitement. “It’s been ages since I last got my hands on one of them. Unlock it and you can get all kinds of data. We could learn more about those guys in one moment than we have in weeks of recon.”

“Tom,” Desdemona said. He stopped and smiled guiltily. “He’s right. In time, we’ll decode it and see what we can get from it. But now we need to plan.”

“We’re hijackers,” Deacon said with a grin. He crossed his arms, amusement clear in his voice. “We’re going to hijack that bastard and they won’t know the difference until it’s too late. But finding a courser...that’s easier said than done.”

“We keep watch for them, but we don’t have a direct way to track one. Do you know where to find one?” Desdemona asked as she scanned the blueprints, tilting her head towards Rebecca.

“In a way, yes. They cause a disturbance in radio frequencies, if you’re tuned to the right channel.” Rebecca tapped one finger on her Pip-Boy and reminded them of its presence. “I can use this to track one.”

“Well done. Now, you’re going to need backup.” Desdemona scrubbed a hand across her face. She was silent as she thought and the others waited for her orders. The stress of leading the Railroad, the heavy weight that sat on her shoulders day after day, left her looking exhausted. “I don’t want to send a large group with you. That’ll only attract attention. Better a small team, skilled and quick. Fixer, Deacon, I want you to select a small group. Tom, take a look at these.”

Tom took the blueprints she offered and immediately looked them over. “Who drew this?” he asked in surprise. He brought them closer and frowned. “It looks like it was drawn by a kid. What’d they have, a crayon?”

“ _Tom_.”

“Fine, boss, fine. Most of this is basic stuff. I can build and wire it, no problem. The rest is a bit more complicated. These parts aren’t easy to come by.”

“I have those covered already,” Rebecca said.

“Right. Looking at this, er, drawing we’ll need a large, open area. This thing’s gonna be big.”

“Is there room at that location you cleared, Fixer? No, no.” Desdemona shook her head. “That’s a safehouse and we can’t afford to lose it. Does anyone know of somewhere else?”

“Should be one nearby. Not across the river, but maybe...” Rebecca pictured the safehouse she had settled. The old home and its corresponding boathouse stood alone on the riverbank. Across the river was a hotspot for super mutants. Nearby was a cluster of old buildings and a drainage system. “I’ve got one. Not far from it there’s a valley between some rocks. It should be hidden from view. That’s a distance to take everything, though.”

“We’ll manage. You two, head out and get the rest of these parts. I want a full report when you’re back. In the meantime, I’ll have agents start taking supplies that direction. We need to get this done before the Institute finds out about it.” Desdemona looked over at Rebecca and Deacon. Her eagerness had been replaced with a haunted worry. “Choose your team wisely, and don’t be afraid to ask for help from your fellow agents.”

They nodded and she left, nursing her temples.

As the two agents set about gathering supplies, Deacon suggested asking her friends for help. “If they’re already in this deep, y’know, helping you build this thing, then we might as well enlist them to fight with us. And if you vouch for them, they must be good.”

Rebecca nodded. She was tired already, and she hadn’t even left headquarters yet. The fight yesterday was still dragging at her steps and her injuries weren’t helping. The thought of traveling back out to Sanctuary wasn’t a pleasant one.

“I’ll get a hold of them,” she said. “Assuming they’re back with the supplies already.”

“And I’ll tag along. No sense sitting around here waiting until you get back to me.”

Rebecca was thankful for his offer. Traveling alone wasn’t easy, but she could manage most days. Traveling alone injured like she was was a different story. She lifted her pack and shrugged it over her shoulder, feeling the weight of more yet stims, ammunition, and food against her back. With a jerk of her chin, she led the way out of the church.

 

Getting her hands on the last of the supplies had been tricky, but with a bit of help and some luck, Rebecca had gathered it all together. Nick and Anna had readily handed over their collection: one biometric scanner from an old hospital, and a military-grade circuit board . She had thanked them before heading north towards an old radio tower, where she had found plenty of copper, metal, and more circuitry amid the prewar tech.

Tinker Tom had immediately began work on the teleporter, but even working as fast as they were, it took time for the Railroad to build it. He spent hours directing the other agents, instructing them to take this wire and plug it in there or to switch these two wires completely. He eventually made himself a makeshift control station and reprogrammed a terminal in order to control the entire machine.

Desdemona oversaw their efforts and reminded them all to keep it quiet. Theirs wasn’t a hidden location, and while everyone knew how vulnerable to the Institute this made them, few thought of the more mundane, everyday threats. Raiders. Wild animals. Even the weather posed a major threat to their operations. It seemed the sky was mocking them, as it rained frequently as they worked. It was a cold, dreary rain that heralded even colder weather. Tarps had therefore been salvaged from nearby areas and draped between wooden posts, creating a dry place to work.

There was a platform, made of steel and circuitry, that would stand under a large, arch-like contraption. Rebecca would stand there, and apparently the relay could be conducted through the arch and down from above. To find the signal itself there would be a satellite dish, and between that and the chip’s code she would be sent right into the Institute.

It was an ominous thing, if only partly complete. Standing there, sweater wrapped tight around her, Rebecca swallowed her nerves. If it didn’t work, the energy would kill her. She would be dematerialized entirely, and she didn’t think that would be a pleasant experience. If it did work, she would be on her own. Not only would she be faced with the secretive Institute, who might not take kindly to her actions, she would have to somehow find her son - and get him out safely. And added to that, the Railroad had their own reasons for accessing the Institute. Helping get more synths out, collecting data, and maybe finding a way to end it all. She shared these goals but it was still a heavy burden to bear.

She had used such teleportation before, of course, but even that hadn’t been easy. Trying to comfort herself with the knowledge that she’d been through it before was useless.

As they worked, Randolph safehouse frequently called for help, so Rebecca volunteered to take more dead drops. She cleared more areas and helped escort several synths through tight spots.

Heading back from one such mission, Rebecca found herself in the alleys outside Diamond City. It was late and more rain hovered on the horizon. There was a greenish tint to the sky and she sighed, digging into her pack for her bottle of rad-x. She was tired and cold, her stomach rumbling with hunger. There would be no point in pushing herself just so she could reach headquarters.

The guards in front of the city nodded in greeting and one of them encouraged her to get inside before the storm broke. The gate was lifted and she hurried to take their advice.

The smell of the city broke her out of her reverie. Metal, mud, a faint trace of the old, musty smell of unwashed masses. Over that was warm food and she followed it down to the center of the marketplace. Like always, Takahashi served hot bowls of noodles to the citizens crowding around his stand. Rebecca placed a hand over her stomach and fished a handful of caps out of her pocket.

There wasn’t room for her to sit but the bot served her anyway. She passed over the caps before claiming the bowl and leaning down to pull a Nuka-Cola from the cooler at her feet.

“Thanks,” she said, though it was unnecessary as Takahashi had already turned to the next customer. She found an open spot near the edge of the crowd and, tucking the bottle into her pack, began to eat.

Thunder echoed faintly overhead. Several people looked up, worry in their eyes. Even in Diamond City, radstorms were no joy to sit through. Rain began to fall in a faint trickle that tapped a staccato rhythm on the tarp overhead. People quickly finished up their dinners, throwing up their hoods or taking a dose of medicine to combat the rads that would follow.

The stand was clear in just over a minute. Bowls and napkins littered the countertop and Takahashi cleared it all away, seemingly unaffected by the weather as it began to worsen.

“Hey, look!”

Rebecca looked up from her bowl. Piper and her sister Nat approached her, the reporter waving a hand in greeting. Ellie followed them with an amused shake of her head.

“What’re you doing out here? C’mon, let’s get inside. This storm’s about to show us its true colors. Green, mostly.” Piper motioned for Rebecca to follow her, her tone brooking no argument.

Rebecca finished off her bowl, handed it to Takahashi with a smile, and followed the other three out of the marketplace. The rain was coming down much harder now. It shrouded the city with a greenish-gray haze and they huddled in their coats as they hurried towards Piper’s house. She unlocked the door with a flourish and ushered them inside.

Rain pelted the metal roof. A tinny sound, it rang in Rebecca’s ears as she shook the rain from her hair. She unbuttoned her coat and hung it next to the door. The apartment was chilly and dark, causing her to shiver as she joined the others in the living room.

Piper flipped a switch and an overhead light flickered on. It fell on the cluttered yet cozy space. There was a sofa and rug, and a small kitchenette. Bookshelves littered with keepsakes and spare parts stood along the walls. In the distance, shadows nearly hiding it, was the printing press. Behind it was Nat’s room, while Piper’s was on the second floor.

Nat hopped on the sofa and sprawled out. She protested when Piper knocked aside her feet and sat next to her.

“Have a seat,” Piper drawled. “Sounds like we might be here a while.”

Ellie looked towards the roof and rubbed her arms. “I hope nobody got caught out in this storm. That shade of green doesn’t bode well. Probably has all the ferals in fits.” She shuddered and took a seat on the sofa as well. She adjusted her scarf, pulling it tighter and ducking her chin.

“One this big, it’s to be expected. I was caught in something like this, once. All I had for shelter was this old shack in the middle of nowhere. I can still hear them sometimes.” Piper made a disgusted sound. When Ellie asked for the story, she laughed. “That was years ago. I was coming back into town and the storm came out of nowhere. Suddenly the sky went this nauseating color and I could almost feel the rads burning holes into my jacket. I was miles from any good shelter, but I did find that shack. It was tiny but solid enough. The ferals knew I was there and just kept digging at the door.”

“I think we’ve all been in that kind of position,” Ellie muttered. “I had to practically dive into an old apartment once. Climbed up the wall and they couldn’t follow me. Glad you made it out of there, Piper. How’d you get them to leave you alone?”

Piper flashed her a rueful grin. “Keeping quiet certainly didn’t do the trick. I dunno if they just got bored, or they found an easier...uh, meal. It was hours before I could leave.”

Rebecca wrapped her arms around her middle. Both stories sounded horrifying. “So, ferals act like this in every storm?”

“Nah, not every one. Most, though.” Piper leaned back and glanced back to the ceiling. “Something about the rads, I’m sure. The ones with higher radiation levels probably wake them up, or give them some energy. Haven’t come across a swarm yet, have you, Blue?”

“No, and I don’t want to.”

Piper’s smile was sympathetic. “Yeah. We learn quick, out here. Stay out of the radrain and find high ground.” She looked over at her younger sister, who had listened to her story with wide, excited eyes. “Speaking of learning, you have homework today, don’t you? Why don’t you get started? I’ll catch up.”

Nat didn’t seemed pleased by this suggestion, but got up from the couch anyway. She disappeared towards the far end of the apartment and another light switched on. Piper watched her go with a bittersweet smile before turning back to the others.

“I worry about her sometimes,” she confided quietly. “Probably shouldn’t have told that story, to be honest, but she’s not a baby anymore. It’s just...I don’t want her turning out like me. She already helps enough with the paper. It’s so dangerous out there and I’ve seen the worst of it. If she ends up hurt because of me…”

Rebecca could almost feel the pain in her eyes. She was trying to do the best she could in raising her younger sister. She had help, sure, but for the most part she was alone in it. It was up to her to protect and guide Nat, and Rebecca could guess how overwhelming that was.

“I think that if I leave, or spend time away, she’ll stop. But it doesn’t help, and it means that she’s alone. I don’t want that either.” The reporter leaned forward and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I should stop. I really can get going sometimes. I just get so worked up and I don’t always have someone I can talk to about it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rebecca said with warmth. “It’s hard, isn’t it? I know I’m not in town much, but if you need to talk I’d be happy to stop by.”

“And you’re welcome at the agency any time,” Ellie added. “We don’t mind watching Nat. She refuses to call it that, of course, but don’t hesitate to drop her off. If you just need a cup of coffee or something, Nick or I will get you one.”

Piper snorted, but there was the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Thanks.” She leaned back once more, silent for a few moments. Soon enough, the familiar light of curiosity returned to her eyes. “Enough about me. You’ve been out a while, Blue. Any stories for me? I want the exclusive. I’m dying for something new to write about.”

As the storm raged overhead, Rebecca told them how she had managed to get through the Glowing Sea. They both stared at her in equal parts horror and awe. “It’s not a place I want to think about, really,” she said. “I had all these thoughts of the radiation. Get myself some power armor, take as much medicine as you can, stuff like that. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.”

“I can’t imagine,” Ellie said. “That place has been undisturbed since the bombs. No one’s ever been there. What...was it like?”

“Saying it’s a nightmare is putting it lightly. Horrifying is more like it. I felt like I was on a different planet. The sky was so dark and there was this constant mist. For the most part, I couldn’t see more than a few feet. The clouds would clear sometimes and I could see the buildings back here. There were…” Rebecca struggled to think of the right words. “Remains. Of people and buildings. All the buildings were broken down and some were even buried. The mountains were riddled with caves full of metal siding and rebar. It was like landslides had left pockets between some old structures.”

Piper twisted a pen in her hands. Her posture was rigid. She glanced to her notepad before sliding the pen behind her ear. Perhaps the Glowing Sea wouldn’t make an appropriate story.

Ellie, on the other hand, was completely still.

“I’ll save the rest,” Rebecca croaked. Her words had brought all those sights back. The ashen skeletons, the crumbling buildings, the pools of molten rock. She could feel the radiation again: it churned her stomach worse than any sickness she’d ever felt. The weakness in her limbs, the fog in her brain; it had felt like the end. She had expected to die in that cave, and sometimes she was still amazed that she had not. Clearing her throat, she continued. “I found who I was looking for. I’ve got plans to get me inside the Institute.”

Both of the other women looked up at this. “That’s incredible,” Piper breathed. “Do you know what this means? Someone actually getting inside on their own. Oh, it’s almost funny. The things you could see. Those guys won’t be such a secret anymore, huh?”

“Well, that’s part of the plan.” Rebecca didn’t bother to mention her fears. She’d gotten used to pushing on despite her debilitating fears. “I’m going to learn as much as I can, but hopefully I won’t have to stay there long. I just want to get my son and get out.”

“Of course.” The reporter tempered her excitement, remembering the original reason Rebecca had come this far. Her words turned sympathetic. “I hope you find him, Blue. I really do.”

“Thanks. I’ve done all this, I might as well keep going. I don’t know what will happen once I get there, but they’re going to answer some questions of mine. Honestly, it’s time they answer the questions that everyone’s been asking.” Rebecca chuckled, a low rueful sound. “Wishful thinking, I know.”

“Maybe not,” Ellie said. She shrugged. “Like you said, you’ve done so much. It’s been a month or so and you’ve done more than most do in a year. The things you’ve accomplished...nobody’s done what you have. If anyone’s going to get the Institute to talk, it’ll be you. We’re all rooting for you, you know.”

“No pressure, then. Got it.” Rebecca’s voice was tinged with laughter. The others joined her and she felt some of her worry ease. She may have to face the Institute - she may not even succeed - but she had friends in this world; friends that had her back. “I also have an idea for a story, Piper. Head out to Sanctuary Hills someday. The Minutemen are back and rebuilding the town. I think that’ll make the headlines, as they say.”

Piper considered this. “Hmm, I might just have to do that. People could always use another positive story. Yeah, I’ll head out in a few days. See what it’s all about. As for right now, I got some math homework to help Nat with. You guys make yourselves at home.”

She got up and joined her little sister at the far end of the apartment. Nat rolled her eyes, exaggerating her annoyance. They sat together, bending over the notebook in Nat’s hands.

When the storm finally died down, Ellie stood and pulled on her coat. “I’d better get back, I’ve got some notes to get together. It was good to see you again, Rebecca. See you later.” She waved and opened the door. Chilly air, still damp with rain, whistled around the door before it clicked shut behind her.

“The Minutemen. Huh.” Piper sighed and settled on the couch once more. She kicked off her boots, revealing dark grey socks. Both of them were thin, one sporting a hole near the big toe. “You seem to be involved with all the big changes around here.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my doing. They were already there and I just helped them.”

Piper laughed. “Still. Big changes, Blue. I’m sure you’ve got more stashed up your sleeve. You and me, we both find ways to get things done. I use the newspaper; people can’t ignore a problem when the entire city is covered in headlines. Did you know that there was once a hole in the wall out there? It was blocked by a bookcase.”

“A what?”

“Right! A single bookcase!” Piper flung up her hands. “How is that supposed to be safe? We hadn’t been living here long when I noticed it. I broke out my pen and wrote a good piece about it. Not too long after, the wall was patched right up.”

Rebecca laughed at the idea of a bookcase holding off a deathclaw. Such material would make a decent wall elsewhere, but Diamond City was a baseball stadium and the rest of its wall was steel and concrete. Though it was better than leaving the spot open, a bookcase was a poor substitute. “Well, it sounds like you’re doing good around here.”

“I think so, too. Not that everyone else agrees.” Piper sighed and leaned back into the couch. One hand scrubbed at her face. “It’s exhausting. Some call me crazy. More like they don’t want to actually open their eyes to what might be going on around them. No, it’s more than exhausting. It’s enough to make me want to pull my hair out.”

“I get that. Seems to me that if you’re making waves - or angering the right people - you might be onto something. Making them angry might not be the...wisest, I suppose, but someone has to say something and stand against them. If they’re hurting others, then they need to be stopped.”

Piper smiled faintly. “That’s what keeps me going. Anyway,” she added with a huff. She stood up and pushed aside her boots with one foot. “I should get to sleep. You’re welcome to stay here. And if I miss you in the morning, good luck with that teleporter. Next time I see you, you better have some behind-the-scenes from the Institute.”

 

“Must’ve had a hell of a storm last night.”

Anna looked over and saw Nick sidestep a rather greenish puddle. “You mean the smell didn’t give it away?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. She could smell ozone on the air, and that persistent hint of metal. It was as eerie as it was familiar. Sometimes it made her teeth ache. “Let’s just be thankful we missed it. I’m not so keen on having to scale one of these buildings even if it is to escape the ferals.”

She took a dose of rad-x and tried not to gag on the acrid taste. “And here’s hoping that the city hasn’t flooded again,” she said. “I don’t think there’s enough food to go around if some of it gets contaminated. Fall’s here and there’s a lot of mouths to feed.”

With a grim nod, Nick opened the gate to Diamond City. Having lived in the city for several decades, he knew how difficult it was for the city to feed its inhabitants when the season grew cold.

They headed into the city proper and Anna looked around. Puddles of rainwater shimmered in the midday light and she could see even more water gathered beneath the metal walkways. Not only would the city’s inhabitants need food, but they would need plenty of medicine, too. She didn’t need a geiger counter to know that each small body of water gave off rads.

She saw several guards, as well as some civilians, already at work cleaning it all away. They wore thick gloves and boots. She hoped they remembered to wash thoroughly.

She followed Nick around the marketplace and back towards the agency. Ellie had called the evening before. She had updated them on the news of the city and then asked them to come by. A client had come in, she had said, and they needed to take the case sooner rather than later.

Reaching the agency, Nick swung open the door. “Ellie? Ya here?” he called.

The woman in question appeared from the back of the apartment. “It’s good to see you!” she said and embraced both of them. “How was the walk here? It stormed pretty hard last night.”

Anna took a seat in front of Nick’s desk. She stretched out her legs with a sigh and leaned her cheek into one hand. “Thankfully, uneventful. Is everyone alright over here? Good. I suppose it’s nothing these people haven’t seen before, but I still worry.”

Nick made a sound of agreement. “So tell me about our new client,” he said, settling behind his desk. When Ellie handed him her notes, he immediately began reading through them. “Kenji Nakano. That’s a familiar name, but I can’t place it. Sounds like he’s worried about his daughter.”

“He was upset,” Ellie added. “Agitated and angry. He was convinced that someone kidnapped her, or lead her astray. But from what he told me, his daughter’s not a child. She could have left by herself.”

“Still. It needs lookin’ into. And, besides, why would she leave without telling her parents?”

“If we go with the she-left-on-her-own theory, maybe she had a reason not to tell them. There _can_ be reasons not to tell your parents about such a decision.” Anna shrugged and straightened in the chair. “Must’ve been important, then. Something they couldn’t know, or wouldn’t understand.”

Nick looked thoughtful. “Awfully important, but we’ll keep that in mind. How about you and I go talk to him after all this business with the teleporter is done?”

“Sounds good. Should be just another day or so, anyway.”

Anna’s words were confident, but inside she felt worry gnawing at her gut. She trusted Rebecca, and Rebecca’s judgement, but she still wasn’t so sure about the plan to teleport directly into the Institute. Even if the signal worked and it was safe, that meant that Rebecca had to face the Institute directly.

And they still had to take out a courser. All rumors painted them as lethal, unstoppable forces. Of course, as rumors often were, they were probably exaggerations, but it didn’t make her feel much better.

They could die. Any of them could die.

Looking across the desk, she caught Nick’s gaze and knew he shared her thoughts. She offered him a brave smile. “On that note,” she said and stood up again. She dusted imaginary dust off of her jacket. “I should see what Arturo’s got in stock. You two go ahead and discuss all the details.”

Anna left before she could change her mind. She needed to move, to do something. Outside the agency, she leaned against the door for a few moments before heading back towards the marketplace.


End file.
